


Once More To See You

by spaghettideviant



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Connor is a prince, Fluff and Smut, Hank is a Gardener, M/M, garden au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-10-14 19:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaghettideviant/pseuds/spaghettideviant
Summary: Prince Connor Stern is not allowed to leave his family's estate. After seeing a handsome stranger down in the garden, he becomes tempted to break the rules a little.





	1. Nobody

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is a fic that's been brewing on twitter, so if you ever want to talk about it you can find me there @cannibalspaghet. Basically, Connor isn't allowed outside and Hank is a gardener. 
> 
> High five if you can guess the artist whose songs I'm using for chapter titles. Enjoy!

The sun sends small rays of light downward, cascading onto a large estate. Acres of open, green grass, pristinely kept and pampered, surround the stone structure of the large house. White columns covered with green vines line the front, framing tall open windows and supporting long balconies. The sunlight glints on the large fountain in front, water trickling down each stone tear. The windows, from the inside, are each outlined with white curtains.

At this time of day, the windows are open, and the soft breeze makes the curtains billow inward.

Connor’s legs are outstretched in front of him on the loveseat, one crossed over the other at the ankle. The white curtains move around him, and he enjoys the way the wind rustles his curly hair and the pages of his open book. The breeze picks up the smell of the books, bringing Connor comfort and peace. Old books smell good. Safe, even. The loose sleeves of his shirt shift in the same manner as the curtains. It’s nice.

He licks his thumb, turns a page. Looks out of the open window of the library, gazing out at the freshly mowed grass. It seems to stretch on for miles. Shutting his eyes, Connor imagines rolling around in that grass, feeling it between his toes and his fingers, letting the cool blades graze his face. The peace he feels engulfs him, the grass welcoming him to the earth, letting Connor feel like himself. 

“Connor.” 

Connor’s eyes open, and he looks towards the door, now open. Amanda lingers in the doorway, dark eyes scanning over Connor’s reading position. Clicking her tongue, she glides through the room, the blue cloak draped over her shoulder trailing behind her, dragging across the patterned carpet. She steps around the loveseat, reaches out to shut the window. “You shouldn’t be this close to the window, Connor.”

It slides shut, and the curtains stop moving, the breeze ceasing. “Mother,” Connor reaches to the wilted flower on the seat beside him, pressing it into the book to close it. Connor would never fold the page to mark his place, so he uses flowers. “It’s just the wind. Wind can’t hurt me.”

“The breeze carries in the germs from the outside.” 

Connor frowns. “What sense does that make?”

“It doesn’t have to make sense.” Amanda pulls the book from Connor’s hand, moving to place it back on one of the shelves. “It’s just the rule. No open windows, not around you.” 

Connor sniffs, challengingly, but it has the opposite effect of what he wants. Amanda moves back to him, feeling his forehead. Connor sighs. “Mother, I’m fine. I was just-”

“You’re sniffling again. I’ll call for your doctor.”

“Mother, really, I-”

Amanda frowns, pulling away. “Do not argue with me.” Connor shuts up. “I’ve called for tea to be served in the east parlor. Wash your hands and join me there.” Amanda leans over to press a kiss to Connor’s temple, then floats back to the door. She places her hand on the frame, turning back for just a second. “And please, put on a sweater. You’re freezing.”

Connor spends a few minutes pouting, but ultimately knows that he shouldn’t keep Amanda waiting. After locating his book and placing it under his arm, he leaves the library, making his way towards the west stairs to climb to his bedroom. Three flights of steep stairs never cease to make Connor winded and out of breath, but he refuses to let it show. Amanda used to make him keep his room on the first floor so he wouldn’t have to use stairs at all.

It took several years of convincing for Connor to get her to break, allowing him a room on the third floor, one with a large balcony. It’s a small victory. Amanda was right about the stairs being too much for him, but Connor will never let her know that. He’ll grit his teeth, bear the few minutes where his lungs burn just so he can keep his room with the view.

Sometimes, Connor thinks Amanda is being too overprotective. He thinks that he’s too sheltered, too hidden from the world. But, he gets sick too easily, Amanda is always right about that. His body too frail, immune system too weak. It was worse when he was younger, his body weaker somehow. Aging helped him grow out of it mostly, but Connor fears that his body will never be well enough to go outside if he never  _ goes _ outside. Connor will never stop being sick unless he exposes himself to the germs, lets his body grow accustomed to the foreign sensation of sickness. 

He can never tell Amanda this. She is too afraid, too worried that Connor’s sickness will someday overpower him. Take his life. It’s a reasonable fear, Connor supposes, but that doesn’t mean he has to agree with it.

In his room, he washes his hands in the sink in his bathroom, then steps past the canopied curtains framing his large bed to flick on the light in his large closet. He rummages through some cardigans before deciding on a soft green sweater, pulling it over his head and straightening his collared shirt underneath it. Pulling on some small boots, he strongly considers jumping into his bed and taking a quick nap, but knows that Amanda doesn’t like it when he’s tardy.

Connor stops by the large fish tank against the wall, sandwiched between two bookcases. One, filled with Connor’s favorite books, and the other, filled with Connors old journals and diaries. He stoops, running his fingers along the cool glass. “Hello, Dewey.” The fish, a dwarf gourami, swims in the tank by himself, darting in and out of little stone castles and archways. “How are you doing?” No response, since Dewey is a fish. 

Connor moves to his nightstand, but keeps chatting. “I’m well, thank you. Perhaps a little upset that I couldn’t finish my book before tea.” He looks to his book, discarded against the soft comforter, calling his name. Sighing, he ignores it, reaching to fetch the crown positioned on a pedestal on the nightstand.

He pauses by the large standing mirror by the door. “It’s alright though, I’m just complaining. Mother says I should be happy with what I have. Being upset is selfish. I’ll finish my book later.” Connor sets the crown on his head, fixing his hair once it rustles the curls. He looks over his reflection, at the moles covering his face. Sighing again and straightening his shoulders, Connor thanks Dewey for listening to him, then makes his way to the east parlor.

Amanda is waiting for him, seated upright on a plush chair facing the small coffee table covered with cups and plates. Connor’s mouth waters when he spots the freshly baked cookies on a plate by the sugar cubes. Amanda’s guard smiles when Connor enters the room. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” Connor nods at him, then moves to join his mother in one of the two remaining chairs.

He reaches for a cookie, but recoils when Amanda’s eyes narrow. “It’s not time.” She reaches up to adjust her tiara. It’s one of the casual ones. Less intricate, less diamonds. It matches the locket around her throat. “We’re not all here.”

Connor looks over at the empty chair, and at the bottle of wine on the table. “Where is he?” He asks, resisting the urge to grab a cookie anyway. “It’s not like him to be late.”

Amanda sighs, opening her mouth to say something undoubtedly condescending and critical before the door slides open again. Niles speed walks to the table before sinking down into the open chair, leaning back against the cushion. “Sorry,” He murmurs. His guard joins Amanda’s next to the door, and Connor looks between him and Niles. Niles’ face is flushed red, curious when matched with the sweat on his guard’s brow. Connor tries not to think too much of it. Maybe they went running.

“Fix your posture,” Amanda hisses low, and Niles straightens, his shoulders squaring. Amanda looks away for a second and Connor reaches over to fix Niles’ lopsided crown. He smiles his tired thanks. Amanda nods to them, and Connor finally reaches out to get a cookie. It’s chocolate chip, and it’s  _ amazing. _ Warm and soft, chocolate still melted from the oven. Connor smiles, humming to himself as Niles pours a glass of wine.

They drink tea in silence, for the most part. Quietly sipping and enjoying each other’s company. The three of them don’t need to speak much to spend time together. Eventually, Amanda’s guard leans over to whisper something in her ear, and she sighs. “Of course, thank you.” She turns to Niles, gesturing openly with her hand. Her bracelets jingle as she moves. “The Lords from Jericho are still waiting for you to respond to their invitation.”

Niles, sighs, swirling his wine glass. “Let them wait, Mother. I haven’t decided yet.”

“You need to let them know now.” Amanda narrows her eyes. “I did not raise you to be indecisive.” 

“What are you deciding?” Connor asks, tilting his head. They never include him anytime they talk about work. 

As expected, Niles doesn’t answer him, continuing to address Amanda. “You know how I feel about these things. If I accept, it will be an ordeal, one that is completely  _ avoidable. _ If you make me decide now, I’ll say no.”

Amanda raises an eyebrow, silently frowning.They watch each other for a moment. Connor eats another cookie, since they’re not paying attention to him. Normally Amanda would scold him for eating three, but she doesn’t notice. He eats a fourth. Amanda waves to her guard. “Tell them Niles will be attending.”

“Mother!”

“I don’t want to hear it, Niles.” Niles groans, slumping in his chair. Connor eats another cookie. “You’re going. You need to begin arranging things with your betrothed.”  _ Oh. _ Connor didn’t realize they were talking about Niles’ wedding. He supposes it  _ is _ time to address that issue, seeing as Niles is twenty-five now. They were supposed to wed when Niles turned eighteen. 

Niles folds his arms, glancing over at his guard. “Please, Mother. That can wait. I don’t need to-”

“But, you do.” Amanda takes a sip of tea. Connor eats a sixth cookie. “This little… phase of yours stops this year. I expect you to be married by the end of it.”

Blinking, Niles chews on his lower lip. “It’s not…” He sighs, shoulders falling even further. “It’s not a  _ phase. _ Please don’t treat me like a child.”

“If you blatantly ignore my instructions and avoid becoming the man I tell you to become, then I will treat you like a child. If being this petulant is what you’re set on being, perhaps I should plan this wedding myself. You’ll be married next month.”

“No!” Niles sits up. “I’ll… Mother, you know that I don’t-”

“What you choose to be is not my concern. I expect you to stop behaving like this and start making me proud of you.” Connor reaches for a seventh cookie. Amanda smacks his hand. “Do you want to be fat?”

Connor frowns, pulling his hand away. “No, Mother.”

“Then stop eating like you’re overweight.” She sighs, setting her tea down. “Leave us, Connor. I apparently have to remind your brother of the image he’s upholding, and what everyone thinks of him.” Connor glances at Niles, at the anger lacing his features, then stands, leaving his tea and the plate of cookies behind. He looks at Niles’ guard as he opens the door for Connor, wondering why he looks so worried. 

Once back in his room, Connor removes his crown and sets it carefully back down on the nightstand. He kicks his shoes off, pulls off his sweater and slides under the covers of his bed. The room is heated, and the sheets are warm, almost as if they were waiting for him. He looks over at the sliding glass door leading to his balcony. If he were adventurous, Connor would go out there to read. But, instead, he opens the book while bundled in his covers, enjoying the soft sounds of water filtering through the fish tank.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Rosé hits the inside of a short wine glass, the sweet aroma drifting upwards into Niles’ nostrils. He inhales the scent deeply, then sets the bottle down. Drinking from the glass, he looks around at the room, filled to the brim with people. All important, all needing to hear from him at some point. If he’s lucky, he’ll get drunk and earn a scolding from Amanda. Then she won’t make him talk.

Niles scans the room, blue eyes looking over the sea of faces to try and find his mother. She’s nowhere to be found, so he kicks back the entire glass, not even wincing from the burn of the wine. Swallowing, he reaches for the bottle to pour himself another, but a throat clears from behind him. He whips around, frowning when it’s only Gavin. “You’re supposed to watch me, not judge.”

Wine hits the glass again, and Gavin takes a step forward. “Guarding you also means following orders, My Prince.”

“Well, I order you not to judge me for drinking.”

“Unfortunately,” Gavin takes the glass and bottle from Niles’ hands, making him groan. “Her Majesty instructed that I keep you from intoxicating yourself.” He sets the bottle on the table, but keeps the wine glass for himself.

Niles folds his arms, manners be damned. “Why are you so difficult all the time?” Gavin shrugs, so Niles takes a daring step forward, leaning down to speak into Gavin’s ear. “We could get out of here, you know. No one would miss us. Plus, we wouldn’t be gone long.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but Gavin doesn’t budge. “Your mother wants you here, My Prince.” He drinks from the wine glass, then points out towards the group of people at the head of the room, dazzling compared to every other guest. “I believe she wants you to speak with your betrothed.” 

Niles frowns, trying to snatch the glass back. “No.”

Gavin throws the wine back, then presses Niles’ shoulder to make him walk. Niles gives up fighting, letting Gavin’s hand guide him through the crowd. His hand is warm, and it brings Niles a form of peace that he doesn’t like to admit. Briefly, Niles considers turning and taking Gavin’s arm, dragging him out of here and into some closet somewhere. Gavin wouldn’t object, not really, and they could be completely alone. It has been a few hours since the last time they snuck off…

Then, he spots Amanda, and loses hope of sneaking off at all. She gestures for him. “Ah, there you are!” Niles, straightening upright and hoping his cheeks aren’t flushed from the wine, approaches her slowly, dignified. “You haven’t spoken with North yet.”

She gestures wide, and Niles shivers when Gavin removes his hand from Niles’ back. Niles, turning to his fiancee, draped in a soft grey dress that covers the floor surrounding her, smiles achingly. “Your Majesty,” He takes her hand, bowing low, as is customary, before pressing her knuckles to his lips. “How wonderful to see you. I apologize for my curtness, my mind seems a bit preoccupied as of late.”

North folds her hands together, curtseying with a practiced grace. “Nothing to worry about, Prince Niles, I’m only glad that you’re here with me now.” The group surrounding them gives a collective sigh, the sound jealous yet respectful. A lot of them envy the relationship they think the two of them have, though they couldn’t be more wrong. 

Niles hates North and North hates Niles,  _ thank God. _

If either of them had any say in this dreadful relationship, they would both get out of it. Niles thinks that North is bitchy and high strung, and if he  _ has _ to marry anyone, it definitely will not be her. Plus, he’s not stupid, like most of these people. He knows that North is sweet on the Kamski girl from one of the smaller towns. Chloe, Niles thinks. If only Amanda would listen to Niles, she would understand how badly he does  _ not _ want to marry North.

Though, if Niles could marry the person he wants to, his mother would probably have to be dead. 

Niles loves Amanda, he really does. She’s just frustrating sometimes. So quick to ignore whatever Niles wants in favor of  _ the good of the kingdom,  _ whatever that means. She spends almost all of her time making Niles follow her around, learning how to rule, but she still never tells Niles what they’re ruling  _ for. _ He doesn’t even get to speak to any of the locals. How is he supposed to govern a kingdom if he isn’t even allowed to speak with the people he’s governing?

The rest of the banquet is stupid, to say the least. He does have to make a speech, but he chalks it up to North’s radiance and some other bullshit praise like that. At home, he has to deal with Amanda berating him about how much better he could have done, how many things he should have said differently. He doesn’t even have time to say goodnight to Connor, which is upsetting by itself, let alone when coupled with Amanda’s blasted screeching.

He can’t collapse into his bed until midnight, and that makes Niles indescribably angry.

After a few minutes of him laying face down and groaning into the mattress, the door opens and closes softly, followed by footsteps padding across the carpeted floor. Gavin. “You’re going to suffocate if you stay like that.”

“Good. I want to die.”

“No, you don’t,” The bed dips, and Niles rolls inward, landing against Gavin’s thigh. Gavin settles into the bed, reaching down to untie his boots. “You’re being dramatic again.”

Niles looks up at Gavin, eyes running along the growing stubble on his chin. “I’m not dramatic.” He reaches up to rub the stubble, feeling the roughness of it against his fingers. “I’m just angry.”

Gavin snorts, shaking his head. “You’re always angry.” He leans forward to press a kiss to Niles’ temple. “That’s one of the things that makes you great.”

Niles’ face heats, and all memories of the banquet fade from his mind, pushing his betrothed to the back and bring Gavin to the forefront. 

Niles has been sleeping with his bodyguard for four years now.

‘Sleeping with’ might be a harsh term, but Niles doesn’t know how to describe their relationship anymore. It started when Niles discovered he enjoyed being talked down to, degraded. He  _ accidentally _ moaned Gavin’s name while touching himself, pretending not to know that Gavin was posted outside of his bedroom, like he always is. Of course, Gavin entered the room, and their relationship escalated from there. For a few years, it was late night trysts, complete with Gavin calling Niles horrible names and choking him to the point of blackout. But, more recently, Gavin has been nicer to Niles. Still just as dirty in bed, but… sweeter somehow. All of his actions are fueled by his desire to keep Niles happy.

The thought of Gavin being in love with him used to scare Niles, but he’s come to terms with that possibility now. Neither of them have said it out loud but, Niles can definitely feel it.

Or, at least he thinks he does.

There’s no way to know for sure, he supposes. Plus, Amanda is always giving him lectures about how a man loving another man isn’t something that’s possible. Niles preferring men is just a passing phase he’s going through. Sometimes Niles has doubts, sure, but Amanda doesn’t know about his relationship with Gavin, so what does she know?

Gavin kisses Niles’ nose, and he falls back against the mattress. “Alright, you know the drill.” Niles winks. “Let’s do this.”

Frowning, Gavin moves to pull his socks off. “You say that like this is an obligation.”

“It is, sort of.” Gavin raises an eyebrow, and Niles shrugs, pulling the crown from his head and tossing it away from the bed, hearing it roll across the floor and bump into the small couch by the window. “I’m kidding, Gav.”

Gavin shakes his head, and instead of climbing over Niles like Niles expects him to, he moves to lay his head against the pillow. Niles looks at him, eyes narrowed as Gavin pats the pillow beside him. “You’ve had a long day, Ni. Come to bed.”

“I’m already in bed.”

“You know what I mean.”

Niles groans, then rolls out of bed, drifting across the floor to his closet. He undresses slowly, feeling Gavin’s eyes on him. Naked, he looks around the clothes-filled racks of his closet, looking for…  _ there you are. _ Niles pulls free a dark lace nightgown, one that Gavin gifted to him for his twenty-fourth birthday. It still fits, and he pulls the black fabric over his pale skin slowly, still feeling Gavin’s stare.

“Come on, Ni, that’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Niles steps out of his closet, letting the lace fall against his torso, framing his body and extenuating his lack of clothing underneath. Gavin’s gaze moves to Niles’ bare legs, then a little higher, below his stomach. “You okay?”

Gavin frowns, but sits upright, pulling his legs high enough to stuff them under the covers. “Just get over here, you freak.” Niles grins, skipping to the bed and sliding under the blankets beside him. He presses his lips to Gavin’s neck, snuggling up against him. “You’re a menace.”

Laughing, Niles runs his hands down Gavin’ chest. “I know, but you like me anyway.”

“I do,” Gavin concedes, kissing the top of Niles’ head before looking towards the ceiling. Niles tries his best to forget about the banquet, and about how much he loathes his fiancee. He always tries to forget his mother, but can’t really dismiss the anxious thoughts that creep into his brain as Gavin starts snoring beside him. 

As always, Niles sleeps fitfully, dreaming the same nightmare he has every night.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Princess North joins them for breakfast. Connor wonders if she stayed the night, but figures that she must not have. Niles despises her, despite their engagement, and he’s not exactly discreet about it. All throughout breakfast he picks at his food, sending North angry glares everytime she sparks up conversation with Amanda. Amanda loves North, and speaks openly with her, much more so than she ever speaks to Niles or Connor. Connor folds his arms on the table and she doesn’t even notice.

He rests his head on his hand, propped on his elbow, daydreaming about being in love. Connor looks between North and Niles, smirking a little when he spots Niles mocking her with his hands behind her back, making his guard laugh. Amanda doesn’t notice or care, and keeps talking to North, who listens attentively. Connor knows that the two of them are  _ not _ in love. Even without Niles rambling about how much he detests her, Connor can tell just by looking at them. There’s no passion, no spark.

Connor wants nothing more than to be in love. He has spent twenty-three years in this place, and he’s never been outside. Everything that he knows about love are things he’s read in books. There are no televisions in the house, so Connor hasn’t even seen a kiss before. Niles said he’s kissed people before, but he wouldn’t talk about it. Connor only really knows what a kiss should feel like, how it’s described in novels. If he ever were to kiss someone, he’s sure he would be bad at it. He wouldn’t know what to do.

What Connor also doesn’t know is what it feels like to hold hands. Connor isn’t allowed to touch other people besides Niles and Amanda, and even they don’t enjoy physical contact. Holding hands with someone would surely make him sick, and would probably not be the best idea, but… Oh, how Connor  _ longs  _ to hold someone’s hand. To feel close to them, like he knows them and trusts them completely. He wants someone to kiss the back of his knuckles like he’s seen Niles do to North. He wants someone to kiss his lips, sending electrifying sparks down his spine. 

Connor wants to love someone, and he wants to be loved back.

Every girl in Connor’s books end up in love, except for the rare occasion where a book ends on a sad note, one of them dying. Connor’s favorites are the ones where the girl, usually a princess, is swept off her feet by some big, strong man. A man that can protect her, hold her, love her like she deserves to be loved. Connor wants that. He wants to feel safe.

After breakfast, North and Niles leave to discuss wedding plans. Connor knows how much Niles must hate that. He tries to stay a little longer, maybe sneak a few more apple fritters, but Amanda shoos him away, claiming something about needing to work.

So, Connor finds himself back in his room, moving out onto his balcony. If Amanda’s so busy, she won’t even notice that he’s out here. He grabs his book, determined to finish, and pulls the sliding glass open. A soft breeze hits his face, and he smiles before hearing his bedroom door open behind him.

Panicking, he turns, relieved to see that it’s only one of the maids, Simon. He nods to Connor in silence, then sets to making Connor’s bed. Connor considers this lucky, since he was expecting to see his mother. Turning back, Connor perches himself on one of the white chairs facing the small table. He looks down at the large garden through the railing, feeling the wind rustles his curls. Something catches his eye as he opens his book, and he tears his gaze away from the page to lean forward, peering down at the clustered hedges and rose bushes.

There’s… a man.

Not one of the regular members of the staff, Connor has met all of them. Someone new, maybe? Connor isn’t sure. He stands, setting his book on the table to lean on his elbows against the rail. Upon closer inspection, this man is tending to the roses. His arms are bare, his legs and torso covered with denim overalls and a white t-shirt. His grey hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail. 

Blood rushes to Connor’s cheeks, and he sinks down to sit on the balcony floor, letting his legs dangle through the rails. He forgets his book completely, opting to watch the man work instead. Connor enjoys watching him move, the way his strong arms clean away excess weeds and dead plants so tenderly. Like each individual flower is important to him. How a man so large can treat flowers so gently, Connor has no idea.

Sweat clings to the man’s skin, and when he turns, Connor can make out the dark spots on his back, under his arms. It’s oddly endearing, seeing a man so sweaty. Connor isn’t allowed to sweat, at least not around Amanda. He’s also not allowed to wear t-shirts, or let his hair grow long. Most importantly, Connor is not allowed outside. He’s not allowed on the grass, around the roses. He’s not allowed to lean down and sniff one rose, smiling softly to himself.

Connor’s stomach feels weird.

“Oh my goodness, are you alright?” Connor jumps turning to look behind him as Simon scurries towards him. “Did you fall?”

Connor sputters, confused, before he remembers that he’s on the floor, hanging through the rails. “Oh. No. I’m alright. Thank you.” Simon helps him stand, grabbing his hands and pulling him upwards. He dusts off Connor’s shoulders, and Connor looks back at the garden and the man tending it. “Simon?”   
  


“Yes, Your Majesty?” 

“Who is that man down there?”

Simon blinks, then looks down over the rail. He sighs. “Just a gardener. No one to worry yourself about.” He smiles sweetly, then gestures towards Connor’s room, picking up the book from the table. “Please, My Prince, come back inside. The queen does not like for-”

“For me to be on the balcony, I know.” Connor grumbles, letting Simon lead him inside. He looks over his shoulder, then turns fully when Simon slides the door shut. Simon returns to cleaning, but Connor lingers at the glass, standing on his toes, trying to see the man as he continues to work in the garden.


	2. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niles spends time with Gavin while Connor spends time watching the gardener

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey heads up this chapter is nsfw from the get-go. enjoy

One of these days, Niles is going to lose his mind.

Amanda licks her thumb, reaching over to wipe away some invisible speck of dirt from Niles’ cheek. He groans. “Mother, it’s fine.”

“No,” She scrubs at his cheek, holding his chin with her free hand to keep his face where she can reach it. He’s taller than she is, but that never stops her from manhandling him. “You have to look perfect for dinner tonight.”

Niles rolls his eyes, careful not to let her see. “I always look perfect, you make sure of that.”

She frowns, and he stops protesting, letting her reach up to fix his hair underneath his crown. “I have no idea how, but you always manage to look like you’ve just run a mile. You walk slow, and you certainly never exercise, so I have no idea how you always manage to look so sloppy.” Niles chances looking over at Gavin, who winks. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Amanda releases Niles’ face,  _ finally. _ “I have to go deal with a pressing matter.

“Dinner is at eight, Princess North and her father will be attending. I trust that you will be punctual, Niles.”

Niles nods. “Of course, Mother.” She leaves smoothly, and Niles glances around to make sure they’re alone before, “That means we’ve got twenty-five minutes. Want to go fuck?”

Gavin snorts. “Niles, Her Majesty said-”

“Forget her, she’s lame. Plus, we can just go to the kitchen, it’s close to the dining hall.”

Niles grins, showing even teeth. Gavin considers this for a moment before sighing, and pushing off of his spot against the wall. “Alright, yeah, sure.”

They stay composed as they relocate to the kitchen, making sure that the staff is already gone, setting the food out on the dining table. Niles doesn’t let his stoicism falter as they weave through the large kitchen, looping around the island so Gavin can place his hand on the doorknob of the pantry. He opens the door, holds it open long enough for Niles to slip inside, then shuts the door behind him. Niles reaches past Gavin to lock it, then laughs as Gavin kisses him, pushing him up against the food covered shelves.

Niles hates a lot of things, but,  _ God,  _ does he love kissing Gavin. He moves his mouth in time with Gavin’s letting it hang open so Gavin’s tongue can roam the inside. There’s something about the way that Gavin kisses, so sure of himself, so confident, that makes Niles melt. Niles pulls back for a second to suck Gavin’s bottom lip between his teeth, making Gavin hiss. Gavin’s hands move to Niles’ shoulders, and he pushes him away, pushes him down.

There isn’t a lot of time, so they skip any sort of niceties. Niles drops to his knees. 

He doesn’t struggle with Gavin’s belt, as he’s had a few years to get familiar with it. He doesn’t remove it all the way, only pulls it free from the first loop of his slacks to get his hands on the zipper. Gavin runs his fingers through Niles’ hair, pulling softly. Niles lets his head fall back, a soft moan falling from his lips.  _ “Rosé,”  _ Gavin breathes, his breath already ragged.

“Rosé,” Niles confirms, and Gavin releases him, letting him get to work unzipping his pants. It’s their safe word. They always acknowledge it beforehand, just in case Niles asks for too much or Gavin gets too rough. A reminder to them both. They picked a word that’s short enough to say in the moment, but also is something that’s funny to them. Because of it, whenever Niles drinks the stuff he makes sure to keep direct eye contact with Gavin, his blush never ceasing to make Niles indescribably happy.

Niles doesn’t struggle with the zipper, either, and manages to get his hand into Gavin’s boxers to wrap around his cock. Gavin sighs, fingers pulling on Niles’ hair again. Niles frees him from his boxers, letting his pale fingers guide Gavin into his mouth. He smirks, as much as he can, and slowly takes all of him, letting his nose brush the fabric of Gavin’s boxers. Gavin shifts his legs, and Niles pulls back, licking the underside of Gavin’s cock and looking up at him with wide eyes. Gavin’s hand tightens in Niles’ hair, pushing him all the way back. Niles breathes out through his nose, careful to relax his throat. 

He reaches down to adjust himself, pressing the heel of his hand against the crotch of his own slacks. They seem tighter now, but he can barely focus on that as Gavin thrusts into his mouth, letting his eyes fall shut. 

It might seem weird, but Niles likes to feel used. Like he’s just some toy for Gavin to use. Like he’s nothing. Not a prince, not a lover.  _ Nothing. _

So, Niles lets himself be used. Lets Gavin fuck his mouth until he can’t take it anymore.

Gavin pulls out after a few minutes of this, then pulls Niles to his feet, wrapping his hand around Niles’ throat.  Instinctively, Niles’ hand flies to Gavin’s cock, continuing to stroke him as Gavin pulls off Niles’ tall boots, unzips his slacks, pulls the garments free from his legs, exposing him to the chill of the pantry. “Look at you,” Gavin breathes, squeezing his hand on Niles’ jugular. Niles yelps. “You really are a whore, aren’t you?”  
Another thing Niles likes. A lot. Name-calling. He can’t speak, so he nods. He knows what Gavin means, why he began with that. 

Niles usually wears lingerie under all of his clothes.

He can’t explain it, but normal undergarments and boxers make Niles uncomfortable, way more so than any pair of panties. He swore off of male underwear when he was twenty, and started buying matching sets of lingerie when he started his relationship with Gavin. Mostly, he imports them from Italy. Connections are important when you’re royal, and Niles has to pay to keep people quiet, to keep Amanda from finding out about his purchases. He even pays the maids to keep them from informing her about what they find in his laundry, all of the cupless bras and sheer garters. The stockings, the leather,  _ everything. _ Amanda will never know.

Niles’ choice in underwear benefits Gavin, he supposes, but Niles wears women’s underwear for himself. To feel like himself.

Gavin runs his free hand under the black lace of Niles’ panties, his eyes dark. “I bought you these.” Once again, Niles can’t speak, so he nods. Gavin growls, letting his hand find Niles’ dick, running his fingers up the side, teasing. Niles gulps, hard enough so Gavin can feel it against his palm. He releases Niles, and Niles can feel the blood rushing back to his face. “Yeah?”

His voice goes soft, and Niles turns to spit on the pantry floor. “Think we can hurry this up? I do have to meet with my future father-in-law soon.”

Frowning, Gavin returns his hand to Niles’ neck, while shoving the other in his face, pressing his fingers into Niles’ mouth. “Stop being a brat, we’ve got time.” Niles wants to bite his fingers because,  _ no we don’t, _ but he refrains, opting instead to suck on them, wetting them with his spit as Gavin’s other hand tightens, choking Niles fully. He gags on Gavin’s fingers, and Gavin retracts them, reaching down to pull off Niles’ underwear. He squeezes Niles’ throat as he slides a finger inside of him, and Niles would scream if he could.

He can’t make much noise with the hand squeezing his neck, and he really shouldn’t, given the circumstances. Niles likes to be loud, usually. One of these days, that’s going to get them in trouble, but, they haven’t been caught yet, so Niles makes whatever gurgling sound his throat will allow, his hand continuing to work at Gavin’s cock as he gets fingered open. Growing impatient, he reaches his other hand up to spit in it, just enough so he can reach down and slick Gavin’s cock further, eyes silently pleading for him to hurry up.

Gavin laughs, pulling his fingers free and releasing Niles’ throat, laughing louder at his sharp inhale of breath. “You’re eager today.” He doesn’t continue, so Niles rolls his eyes, trying to prop himself on his hands so Gavin can fuck him against the shelves. Quickness aside, Niles is not about to get fucked on the  _ floor.  _ He may like being degraded, but he’s still finicky when it comes to germs and  _ actually  _ getting dirty. 

Gavin keeps laughing at him, and Niles’ face heats up. “What?” He hisses, eyes narrowed. 

“Beg for it.” Gavin tips his head to the side, expectant. It’s not a request.

Niles would be lying if he said he didn’t  _ love _ having to beg, but he’s never been one to tell the truth  _ all the time. _ “Make me.” Gavin shrugs, watching Niles still, saying nothing. Niles feels the sudden urge to check the time, but realizes there are no clocks in the pantry. He frowns, but doesn’t beg, not yet. After a minute of staring at each other angrily, Gavin reaches down to tuck himself back into his slacks. “No, wait! Okay!”

Gavin raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’ll be good, just…” Niles takes a step forward, reaching out to run his hand across Gavin’s stubble, shivering at the roughness. “Please,” Gavin stays quiet, hand still hovering over his cock, ready to leave if Niles doesn’t do something. “Please fuck me,” 

That works, a little. Gavin’s shoulders drop. “Oh?” He says again, coaxing Niles to continue.

“Please, Gav,” Niles leans forward to press a kiss to Gavin’s nose, right on the scar covering the bridge. “Please,” Gavin growls, and his hands move to Niles’ ass, holding firm and pushing him up against the shelves. Niles wraps his legs around Gavin’s waist to anchor himself, his arms folding out to rest on Gavin’s shoulders. He kisses Gavin again, licking the inside of his mouth while Gavin widens his stance to keep Niles in place.

Niles keeps moaning  _ please _ and  _ God, Gav, fuck me  _ as Gavin pushes inside of him, arching his back against the shelves. He knocks over a box of…  _ something,  _ but can’t be bothered to care as Gavin slowly thrusts up into him, his fingers digging into Niles’ hips. Niles shakes, and Gavin laughs again, dropping his voice even lower than the whisper he favored before. “Jesus,” He kisses the side of Niles’ neck, hot breath making Niles shiver. “You’re such a fucking slut, Ni,” 

_ Ni. _ Another reminder of who they are, what they mean to each other. Gavin is lying when he says  _ “You’re so filthy, begging for my cock. You’re nothing.”  _ and calling Niles  _ “Ni” _ helps keep them both grounded. Gavin doesn’t  _ really _ think these things about Niles, and Niles isn’t really a whore. They both only have eyes for each other, and the nickname makes Niles’ heart surge in his chest.

Gavin’s movements become faster, and his hand moves back to Niles’ throat, squeezing lighter than he did before. He’s rough, but careful about his movements, knowing Niles well enough to know what he can and can’t handle. Niles loves being choked, and even now, part of him wants to have bruises after this, but he knows that they shouldn’t. Maybe in the future, when Niles isn’t going to be late for…

Dinner.

_ Dinner. Oh fuck, dinner. _

Niles has no idea what time it is anymore, and he moves his hands from Gavin’s hair to his own dick, trying to speed this process up even more. Gavin catches on, and they both work faster to be done with this. Gavin’s name calling ceases, fucking up into Niles only to get himself off, letting Niles worry about the rest. Niles’ head hits the top shelf when he finishes into his hand, and the pain immediately gives him a headache.

Gavin comes inside of Niles, and when Niles’ feet hit the floor he wobbles, falling forward against Gavin and feeling it start to drip down his thighs.  _ Great. _ Gavin tucks himself back into his slacks while Niles finds a towel on one of the shelves, awkwardly cleaning himself. “Here,” Gavin takes the towel from him, wiping his legs down while Niles yells at his headache to go away. “You alright there?” Gavin tosses the towel into a corner, no doubt making a mental note to come back for it later. 

Niles sighs. “I hit my head.”

“Aw, Babe,” Gavin kisses his temple, and Niles smiles, exhaling slowly before leaning down to grab his pants. He pulls them over his legs, and Gavin looks around. “Wait, your uh-” He stoops, picking up Niles’ panties from the floor.

Shrugging, Niles pulls his slacks over his bare ass, still wet. “Keep ‘em.”

Gavin smirks when he stuffs them into his pocket, then hands Niles his boots. They spend a few seconds fixing each other’s hair, straightening each other’s shirts. Niles has to look behind a few crates of canned foods to find his crown. He didn’t even realize it had fallen off. 

They step out into the kitchen, and Niles’ legs immediately shake. They probably shouldn’t have done this. He glances up at the clock.  _ 8:15. _ “Oh, fuck.” Gavin has to help him speed walk towards the dining hall, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Niles starts preparing himself for the wrath Amanda is going to bring down upon him, truly dreading whatever she has planned for him.

To Niles’ surprise, the dining hall is empty, save for the food covering the table and Connor, seated in his usual chair. He’s eating already. “Hey,” He waves, and Niles slides down into his chair, wincing. “You alright?”

He’s not, but he can’t exactly tell Connor how badly his ass hurts. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Your face is red.” Connor points to Gavin. “He’s sweaty.”

Niles changes the subject. “Where’s Mother?”

Connor shrugs. “She went to greet Princess North and her father, they were running late.” He stuffs a piece of chicken into his mouth, and Niles exhales a breath of relief, glancing over at Gavin. Gavin winks, and Niles relaxes into the chair, his head falling to lay against the backrest.

Dinner goes quickly, formally. Niles doesn’t think he’s ever heard Amanda talk this much in his life. She holds conversations with North’s father, smiling and laughing. It’s fake. Niles knows how is mother really is, and wishes that she wouldn’t treat strangers better than she treats her own sons. Niles leans his head against his hand, propped on the table. 

Speaking of her sons, Niles looks over at Connor, who has started to push uneaten food around his plate. Connor makes no sense to Niles when it comes to food. Sometimes he seems bored with it, while other times he shovels food like he’s never eaten a proper meal. Watching him, Niles realizes that Connor has been trying to get Amanda’s attention, his face falling each time she ignores his whispered calls. Niles nods to him. “Connor,” He looks up, face still sad, despite the lively conversation happening him around him. “What do you need?”

Connor sighs, taps his fork against his plate lightly, soft enough so Amanda won’t hear. “Oh, I was just going to ask Mother something.”

Groaning, Niles sits upright, ignoring the pain that shoots up his spine. God, his ass hurts. “So, ask me. I can answer just as well as she can.”

The words stick in Connor’s throat, and he keeps playing with his food before, “Did we hire a new gardener?”

“I think so.” Niles reaches out for his water glass, sipping lightly. “What of it?”

Connor straightens, too, setting his fork down to lean towards Niles’ chair, speaking lower. “What is his name?” Niles raises an eyebrow, and Connor’s cheeks turn bright red. “I mean, uh” His hands fly up to shield his embarrassment, suddenly sheepish. “I saw him working when I was reading on my balcony yesterday, and I just wanted to know his name, that’s all.”

Niles frowns. Connor isn’t allowed on the balcony, but he doesn’t seem sick, so it doesn’t warrant Niles to tell Amanda. “Why?”

Shrugging, face still flustered, Connor shrugs. “I… I like to know the names of the staff. To be polite.”  
“But he works outside.”

“Yes.”

“Connor, you are not allowed-”

“I know! I just,” Connor picks up his fork again, stabbing a piece of potato. “Sorry. I was just wondering, that’s all.”

Sighing deeply, Niles snaps his fingers, signalling for Gavin to come to him. They share a loving smile before Niles beckons for him to lean close, in between them. “What is the gardener’s name?”

Gavin furrows his brow, but answers all the same. “Henry Anderson, Your Majesties.”

Niles nods to Connor. “Happy?” Connor grins, his face a darker shade of red. “Thank, you,” Gavin, politely, steps back to his post by the door. Niles looks at Connor curiously, wondering what his deal is before Amanda calls out to him. “Yes?”

“We need to go over the floral arrangements for the wedding,” Amanda raises an eyebrow, obviously angered that Niles was talking to Connor and not paying attention to her. Sighing, Niles nods again, looking over at North, who shrugs. Niles leans back in his chair, folding his arms, dreading this entire conversation.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Henry.

The gardener’s name is Henry.

Connor doesn’t know how he feels about that, other than the fact that it gives him something to go off of. Now, whenever he peers at the garden, he doesn’t see a man working there. Connor sees Henry.

He’s working now, his white t-shirt swapped for a dark blue flannel, still covered with the same overalls. His hair, free of it’s ponytail, hangs loosely around his face, shielded from the sun with a large straw hat. Connor resists the urge to press his face up to the window, trying to make it seem like he’s focused on his book. His fingers drum anxiously against his thigh, his eyes darting up to the window. 

Henry removes his hat to wipe sweat from his forehead, using the sleeve of his shirt.

Connor bites his lip.

It’s strange to think that an attractive man like this works in a place that Connor can never go. Connor is, by all means, not bold. He’s shy, anxious, reserved. He keeps trying to make up scenarios where Henry worked inside and Connor could flirt with him. Like one of Connor’s books, he’d bump into Henry, put his hands on his hips, call him things like ‘Big Boy’ and ‘Hot Stuff.’ But, Connor knows that even if he were to ever meet Henry, Connor would stutter, face red, and probably even start crying. Connor has never been close to someone that he finds attractive, so he doesn’t know if he would be able to talk to Henry without melting.

What’s even stranger, is that Connor doesn’t really know  _ why _ he’s attracted to Henry. In his years of reading fiction, Connor has never read about a large older man being the love interest. Plus, Connor himself has felt very awkward around a few Princesses here and there. Even Niles’ betrothed is too pretty for Connor to handle, and all words die in his throat if he makes direct eye contact with her. 

Maybe it’s Henry’s strong arms, or the way his hips moves when he bends over to pull a stray weed. Or, maybe it’s just Connor, craving attention. Everyone he’s spoken to, Niles and Simon, told Connor not to worry about Henry. Connor isn’t allowed outside, so Henry shouldn’t concern him. Connor should keep reading books, keep minding his own business.

Connor thinks that part of the problem is him wanting to pursue Henry, to break the rules, to talk to someone that’s only ever outside. Every time someone tells him to ignore Henry, it makes him only want Henry  _ more, _ to know him, to meet him.

To kiss him.

Connor has never kissed anyone.

If Henry is Connor’s first kiss, Connor would surely die on the spot.

The sunlight always catches his face, lined with small wrinkles, and makes his lips look wet and inviting. Connor watches him from inside, hiding behind books and curtains, daydreaming about Henry smashing through the glass, lifting Connor in his arms and kissing Connor till he sees stars. It’s only a dream, but it’s nice to think about.

After a week of this, Amanda announces that she’s going to spend the day in Jericho while they’re eating breakfast, giving them the estate to themselves.

Connor decides that this is the day he will walk out onto his balcony and talk to Henry.

It takes thirty minutes for Connor to convince Simon to set up tea and cookies for him on the balcony, and after hearing  _ “But, Your Majesty, you’ll get sick!”  _ seven times in a row, Connor is just about ready to claw his eyes out. Eventually, Simon agrees, and while he sets up the table outside, Connor spends his time picking out an outfit.

He settles on dark slacks and a loose pink shirt, the collar wide, tying a black string tie underneath. He looks at himself in a long mirror, glancing from the width of his shoulders to the curve of his hips. Connor supposes he looks nice, and decides not to wear his crown, not wanting to scare Henry with his prince status.

Hand on the sliding glass, Connor thanks Simon, about to step outside before his brain yells  _ Niles! Niles is still here! _ Connor sighs, turns around.

Of course Connor has to tell Niles. He might want to break the rules a little, but he doesn’t want to get in trouble for it. Maybe if he  _ casually _ mentions that he’s going to have tea on the balcony, Niles won’t care. It would certainly be better than if Niles walks out while Connor is talking to Henry. Connor loves Niles, but Niles can be just as bad as Amanda sometimes when it comes to worrying about Connor. The last thing Connor wants is for Niles to warn their mother about how much time he’s spending on the balcony, and for Amanda to make him move back downstairs.

That would ruin his chances with Henry.

So, Connor slinks over to Niles’ room, furrowing his brow when he sees the door open slightly. He pushes it open, not bothering to knock. “Niles?”

Niles stands in front of his own standing mirror, turning around when Connor enters, a soft smile on his face. He’s dressed casually today, small ankle boots and a black turtleneck, tucked into high waisted denim jeans. It’s a drastic change from the suit jacket he wore to breakfast. “Hey,” His voice is lighter today, airy.

It takes Connor a second to realize that he’s happy about something.

“Hey,” Connor moves to sit on Niles’ bed, watching as he digs through his box of necklaces and bracelets. “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” Niles doesn’t look up at Connor, holding different watches up to compare them. “We’re going into town.” Connor blinks, waiting for him to continue. “Mother is out, so we’re going to go shopping. Make a day of it, have lunch.” He looks up at Connor, smiling again. “Maybe dinner.”

Connor tips his head. “We?”

Niles nods, then calls out to his closet. “We should get dinner, too.”

Watching the closet, Connor purses his lips when Niles’ guard steps out, dressed in jeans as well. He’s wearing a brown leather jacket, dark and faded. Old. “You and your guard?”

Niles goes back to looking at watches, his smile fading. “Yes. I can’t go anywhere without him.” Connor guesses this makes sense. Even if Niles is out doing things that don’t have anything to do with his duties as a prince, he needs to be protected. And, if Niles is dressed like a normal person, his guard should be too. Like some strange undercover shopping mission.

Connor stands from Niles’ bed, deciding that he won’t have to worry about Niles walking onto the balcony if he isn’t even going to be in the house today. “Alright, well, have fun.”

“Did you need something?”

Connor freezes, turning around slowly. He tries to think of something that would warrant a visit like this. Trying not to seem suspicious, he says, “Um, would you like to play chess later today?”

Niles’ smile returns. “Of course. Maybe when I get back? After dinner.”

“After dinner.” His guard agrees. They share a look that Connor doesn’t understand.

“Okay,” Connor goes to leave again. “Sorry to bother you,”

“Wait, Connor,” Connor turns, looking back at Niles. “Do you think you could… not tell Mother that I went out today?” Connor blinks. “It’s just, I’m not really supposed to leave without her permission, so…”

Oh. Connor smiles, deciding to tell Niles anyway. “I’m going to have tea on my balcony and talk to the gardener.”

“Why?” Niles raises an eyebrow.

Connor shrugs. “I don’t know, why are  _ you _ going to have dinner with your guard?”

Niles blinks, mouth open slightly. He looks over at the guard again, who shrugs, reaching up to scratch at his beard. Smirking, Niles reaches his hand out, balling it into a fist. “Touché.” Grinning, Connor bumps the fist with his own, then returns to his room, immediately taking a seat on the balcony, shoving a cookie into his mouth.

The plan now set in motion, Connor can start worrying about how he’s going to get Henry’s attention from way up on the balcony. He eats a few cookies, gazing down at the garden from over the railing. Henry looks busy, but Connor catches his eye, making him immediately turn back to keep working. Frowning, Connor inhales deeply, knowing that if he wants to actually  _ talk _ to Henry, he’s going to have to step it up a notch. 

He picks up a small blue handkerchief from the table, lifting it to dab at the corners of his mouth nonchalantly. Then, boldly, he yawns, stretching his arms out and letting his fingers loosen around the small fabric. The soft breeze picks it up, carrying it out over the garden and away from the balcony. Connor stands from his chair, pretending to be surprised by the loss of it, settling both hands on the railing. He starts hyping himself up, preparing to yell down and ask for someone to catch it.

To Connor’s surprise, Henry is already chasing the fabric down.

It’s almost comical, watching such a large man run after a small handkerchief, but Connor refrains from laughing. His nervousness spikes, and his face grows red. This is it. He’s going to talk to Henry.

It takes a few minutes, but Henry eventually catches it, jogging back to the rose bushes underneath Connor’s balcony. “Hey!” He calls up, setting his hands on his legs to lean forward and catch his breath. “You dropped this!”

His voice is deep. Rugged. Gravelly. Connor’s heart flutters. “It flew off!” He’s still nervous, but less so, now that Henry is so close. Connor can see the beads of sweat running down his face. “How can I get it back?”

Henry reaches up to scratch his beard, and Connor tracks the movement greedily. Gosh, he’s prettier up close. Connor can’t even begin to imagine how beautiful he is face-to-face. “I’m not allowed inside,” Henry gestures to his muddy boots. “There’s rules or whatever. Can you come out here and get it?”

Leaning forward on the rail so one foot suspends in the air behind him, Connor shakes his head. “I’m not allowed outside actually.”

Blue eyes widening with realization, Henry blinks rapidly, letting his hands drop to his sides. He squints up at Connor closely, and Connor leans back a little. His stomach feels fluttery, like there’s a butterfly inside, making him more anxious. “Holy shit,” Connor winces at that. He does not like to swear, nor does he like when other people do. “You’re the prince aren’t you?”

Connor straightens, jaw falling open. “Wh-what?”

“When I started,” Henry wipes his forehead with his sleeve, removing his hat. “They said one of the princes has cancer or something, can’t come outside.”

“I do not have cancer,” Connor frowns. “But, yes. Mother doesn’t like for me to go outside. I get sick.” Henry scratches the back of his neck, mumbling to himself, no doubt wondering how to get the handkerchief back to Connor. It’s sweet that he cares so much about something so unimportant. “Keep it!” Connor calls down, cupping his hand to his mouth.

“Are you sure? I can figure something out-”

“Keep it, I have several.” Connor grins, his face feeling incredibly hot. “What’s your name?”

Henry blinks, still confused. Connor already knows his name, but he wants to hear him say it. “Hank.” Connor bites his lip. Hank. He goes by Hank. “What’s yours?”  
“My name is Connor,”

“Right,” Hank nods, scratching his head again before returning his hat to its spot. “Well, I’ll hold onto this for you, Connor.” Connor raises an eyebrow. “I mean -er, Your Majesty.” Hank swoops to bow, hurting his back on the way down and cursing on the way up. Connor laughs, and Hank looks up at him, cheeks red, before turning back to the hedges. 

Hank. Connor repeats the name in his head as he returns to his tea. Hank.

It’s a good name. It suits him more than Henry.

Connor smiles to himself, biting into another cookie. Hank.

Hank kept his handkerchief.

Hank.


	3. Geyser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some visitors come to the estate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no nsfw but there is one sex thing so 
> 
>  
> 
> also shout out to @dicksoutforhank on twitter for givin me tattoo ideas for ni and gav. love ya

Connor watches Hank through the windows _a lot._ If he’s honest, it’s probably too often. He tries his best not to look creepy, coming up with reasons why he would be by the window if anyone asked, or if Hank caught him. Simon startles Connor one day, when Connor’s face is pressed up against the glass. “Your Majesty?”

Jumping, Connor whips around, face flushed. “Uh, hi, hello.”

Simon blinks, clears his throat. “Queen Amanda requested that I come fetch you. She has something she’d like to discuss with you.” Connor nods, thanking Simon and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. He turns to leave, but pauses when Simon glances out of the window.

Hank is out there, bent over a small bush.

Smiling, Simon turns back to Connor. “You were watching the gardener.”

It’s not a question. Connor doesn’t respond, only turns, scurrying away from Simon to go find his mother. He doesn’t like the look Simon gave him. Sure, Connor likes Simon enough, he supposes. Just a maid, the one assigned to keep Connor’s bedroom clean. But, still, Connor finds himself perturbed by the way Simon looked at him, like Simon knew how Connor feels about Hank.

How he feels about Hank. It’s… a strange thing to admit, but Connor is done fighting it.

He did a lot of reading during his weeks watching Hank through the windows, romance novels mostly. Only the parts where the protagonist discovers her feelings for the handsome stranger, the rugged bad boy. Every single one only cemented what Connor already knew, deep down. He likes Hank. Actually genuinely likes him.

It’s scary.

Sure, there have been pretty girls Connor used to think about and smile, but none of them made Connor feel as antsy and squirmy as Hank does now. It’s never a bad feeling, just something to make Connor’s heart flutter, his cheeks blush, his legs press together. He’s nervous all the time, because all he wants is for Hank to look at him.

And, after watching him for so long, Connor saw his handkerchief, tied around Hank’s wrist. Maybe, just maybe, Hank likes Connor, too.

He doesn’t know how that would be possible, since they’ve only spoken once, but sometimes their eyes meet, and Hank looks away just as quickly as Connor does.

Maybe.

Amanda is waiting for Connor in her bedroom, standing at the window, hands folded behind her back. Connor sees her guard first, then Niles’. Niles waits, too, seated on the edge of Amanda’s bed. Connor sinks onto the mattress beside him. Are they in trouble?

“As Niles already knows,” Amanda begins, not looking back at either of them. Her nose is turned up. She’s watching something through the glass. “The rulers of our neighboring kingdoms will be staying with us for a few days. They will arrive this evening, in time for dinner.”

Well, this is news to Connor. Usually, when the other kings need to meet with Amanda, she and Niles go to meet them, or at least invite them to the castle, not the estate. Amanda ordered construction on the estate so Connor could stay away from the civilization of their kingdom, away from the germs. All of the official business is handled in the kingdom’s castle. He asks what he’s thinking. “Why are they coming to stay here?”

Amanda sighs, turning to face them finally. Her scrutinizing gaze drags over Connor’s form, and he realizes that he isn’t wearing his crown. _Oops._ “I need the kings to approve of Niles’ betrothal. His marriage will signify the union of our kingdom with Jericho, and we have to start overseeing the merge.”

Niles lets out a sound from deep in his throat, and Connor isn’t sure what it means. His guard shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“I would also like for them to approve of you, Connor.”

Connor straightens, looking back at his mother, confused. “Pardon?”

Amanda shakes her head, silently telling him not to ask questions. Connor understands this, shuts his mouth. “You’ll be joining us for dinner, at least for tonight. All of the royals are aware of your condition and the precautionary measures to keep you from getting sick. However,” She steps towards the bed, holding out something that Connor didn’t see before. “I do want you to wear this, to ensure the prevention of you getting any worse.”

Blinking, Connor takes it from her, staring down at it once it’s in his hands.

A black surgical mask, no insignias, no jewels. He looks up. “Mother, I-”

Raising a hand, Amanda turns away from him, returning to the window. “Dinner, as usual, is at eight. Do not be tardy.” Niles stands, moving to leave the room. Connor looks up at him, and he shrugs, not wanting to intervene. It makes sense, _he_ isn’t the one who has to wear a mask. “Connor,” Amanda chimes, and Connor looks back to her. “I want you to keep that on for the duration of their visit. Just to be sure.”

Slowly, Connor nods, grasping the black strings and raising the mask to his face.

  
  
  
  
  


Niles hates the other kings with a burning passion.

The thought of them spending a week in the estate makes him want to jump off of one of the  balconies and hopefully snap his own neck.

There are four kingdoms, and three of them are ruled by men. That would be fine, sure, if those men weren’t the most stupid and irritating men on the entire planet. When Niles was old enough to start following Amanda around, he quickly realized how awful they were, how incompetent and unfit to rule. All they do is fight over land and taxes. Apparently, Belle-Isle is the only kingdom run by someone who _knows_ what she’s doing. And Niles doesn’t even think his mother is a fair ruler, but she’s at least better than the other fuckers left in charge.

It’s almost sickening that he has to marry into one of those poorly managed kingdoms. It’s an insult to Niles, really. From what he’s seen so far, Princess North at least has a fair understanding of the laws, so maybe ruling Jericho _and_ Belle-Isle won’t be so bad.

No, not ruling. _Fixing._

Niles will have to go in there and at least fix their crumbling economy after his coronation and the merge. That seems like way too much work, and if he’s honest, Niles doesn’t want to do it at all.

He shuts his eyes, sinking into the warm bathwater further and further, until the tip of his nose grazes the surface. The bubbles smell like lavender. Desperately, he tries to remember the day he spent with Gavin while Amanda was out of town. Shopping, dinner, a quick pause to play chess with Connor, then soft sex in the comfort of Niles’ large bed. Niles sighs into the water, watching it ripple. He lets his hand trail to his thigh, peering through the water, tinted pink with soap, smiling at the sight of the ink imbedded in his flesh.

A tattoo.

The real reason Gavin and Niles spent the day together.

It’s a vintage piece, dark lines and bright colors, contrasting Niles’ pale skin, even submerged in the water. It’s an orange tabby with soft green eyes surrounded by sunflowers. Sunflowers are Gavin’s favorite, and the cat reminds Niles of him. Orange tabbies are known for being loving, but still being incredibly dumb. Niles may care for Gavin, but that man can be very stupid from time to time.

This tattoo matches Gavin’s, in a way, though his is on his bicep. Pink peonies blooming around a Siamese. Sleek, regal, with pale blue eyes.

That was a good day, and remembering it almost makes Niles forget about the impending headache he’ll have at dinner tonight. Small tattoos and a new piercing for Gavin. He’s wanted one for years, and they finally had the time. Plus, Gavin _finally_ agreed to let Niles pay for it. A small bar in his tongue, healing slowly.

It’s made kissing a bit weird, but they’re making it work. The same thing happened years ago, when Niles snuck out of the kingdom to get his nipples pierced. Definitely took some getting used to.

The bathwater, though it smells nice, eventually runs cold. Groaning, Niles checks the time. He has to get ready for dinner. Begrudgingly, climbs out of the deep tub, dries his body on a soft pink towel. A quick flourish of the hair dryer, some gel to keep his one unruly curl tamed, a tiny amount of mascara brushed onto his dark lashes before he can walk naked to his closet.

Niles knows this dinner is going to last a while, and that he’ll have to wearing his dress clothes. So, he settles on more comfortable lingerie. Soft, breathable. Dark red lace back panties with a matching bralette, see through just enough so his piercings shine through. The red looks nice against his skin when he gazes at his form in the mirror. Gavin will like these.

He skips his usual thigh highs and garters, moving to pull on dark slacks, a darker button up and dress coat, medals and insignias glistening on the breast. A sash, covered in Belle-Isle’s crest, a white cravat, one black and gold epaulette, tall black boots that stop below his knees. He grabs his cape as he exits the closet, flinging it over one shoulder and clipping it underneath the other.

Niles groans again once he settles his crown on his head, opening the bedroom door and walking face-first into Gavin’s chest. “Why are you standing in front of the door?”

Gavin snorts, but steps out of the way regardless, green eyes sliding down Niles’ form. “Apologies, My Prince. I was about to come fetch you for dinner.”

“Right, Mother said to be there early, I know.” Niles catches sight of Gavin’s new piercing as he speaks, and is filled with regret. He should have asked Gavin to join him in the bath, feel Gavin’s new piercing with his own tongue. Now he has to sit through hours of politics with people he hates, and he hasn’t even gotten fucked today.

As if reading his mind, Gavin reaches out to adjust Niles’ sash, his hands grazing the outline of Niles’ bralette, hidden underneath. “After dinner, I can arrange for a bottle of rosè to be waiting for you in your chambers, if you would like.”

_Rosé. Fucking intuitive bastard._

“Of course.” Niles shrugs, swatting Gavin’s hands away. “You’ll join me for a glass?”

Gavin nods, and they head off towards the dining room. “I would love to, Your Majesty.”

The walk to the estate entrance is quick, quiet. Niles walks a few steps in front of Gavin, just like he always does. It’s something they’re used to  by now, but still something that never fails to upset Niles. He longs to walk _next to_ Gavin, preferably holding his hand. But, that can’t happen, lest anyone see, so, Niles gets over himself, keeps his head held high.

Amanda is waiting for him outside of the entrance hall, a smile on her face. It’s fake, but Niles pretends not to see it, keeps his head straight as he bows to her, mirroring her lying expression. His boots click when he stands back up, and he nods to Connor, who seems sad. He’s wearing his crown, like Niles, and has thrown a nicer jacket over his usual flowy shirt and tight slacks. Niles is surprised Amanda convinced him to put on shoes, since he usually hates them. What’s most jarring is the black mask covering the lower half of his face.

Their mother, on the other hand, dazzles more than either one of them. Her dress is a dark sanguine, covered with diamonds and jewels. Her usual cape is swapped for a longer black one, and when she turns, it drags along the carpet behind her. She reaches up to adjust her crown, then nods for her guard to open the door to the hall.

A small group of people are waiting for them, all dressed in the same lavish luxuries as the Sterns themselves. Servants bustle around them, carrying their luggage off towards their respective rooms, adjusting their crowns, fixing crooked medals and necklaces, taking coats.

Niles refrains from rolling his eyes when the first lord speaks to him, trying his best to make his grin seem genuine. “Ah, there’s my brilliant son-in-law!” King David juts his hand forward, and Niles shakes it firmly, desperately wanting to spit in this man’s face. David rules all of Jericho, and insists on calling Niles ‘son’, even though Niles isn’t even married yet. King David is old, fat, and boring. His accent is hard to understand, and Niles knows for a fact this man is racist and sexist, and doesn’t like Amanda at all. Letting him ramble, Niles turns to North, standing a few inches beside her father.

He bows low, kisses her knuckles. “My bride,”

North sneers, but bats her eyelashes anyway, playing the game like she knows she must. “My Prince,” Smiling, she flicks her long braid over one shoulder, turning to speak with her father.

Niles glares at the man, watching him bow to Amanda, but ignore Connor. “Your youngest won’t be joining us?”

Amanda sighs. “I’m afraid so. Silas is… out of the country on business.”

That’s an interesting way to phrase that, but Niles doesn’t correct her. She’s technically not wrong, if Silas’ business is hookers and red ice. Niles and Connor usually try not to think about their youngest brother, and Niles can tell that Connor’s shoulders go rigid. Instead, Niles keeps his focus on David. Criticizes him.

Ah, how Niles loathes King David. The fact that he’s forcing Niles to marry his only daughter aside, Niles has overheard him speaking ill of Niles, of Connor. Things that he thinks are completely justified and understandable.

That Niles and Connor are impure. Not fit to rule, since they aren’t blood royal.

Amanda adopted them when Niles was two, and though they were raised to be perfect princes and heirs, some of the other kings in the surrounding kingdoms still dislike them. Niles doesn’t understand why. It’s not Amanda’s fault she can’t bear children, nor is it his and Connor’s fault for being dropped off at an orphanage. The kings are just stupid brutes, that’s all.

David dealt with, Niles can focus on the other two. King Carl, of Ferndale, and King Todd, of Ravendale.

Todd is this short, greasy, bloated sack of shit that’s parading around as a human being. He’s rude, obnoxious, and even more annoying than David. He smells bad if you stand too close, and Niles wants to vomit even now, just shaking his clammy hand and looking at his stubby fingers. He has two daughters, Kara and Alice. Kara is Niles’ age. Mature, kind, quiet. She smiles, and pulls him into a tight hug. She’s always been a bit nicer to Niles than some of the others he has to put up with, and Niles likes her well enough, he supposes.

Alice is a child. Nine, Niles thinks, and when she hugs him he has to bend down to reach her. Amanda clears her throat and he straightens, smiling down at her and chuckling when she moves to hide behind Kara’s dress. They’re close. It’s sweet. What confuses Niles the most, more than anything he’s had to deal with as a crown prince, is how Todd managed to have two beautiful daughters, when the man himself looks like a potato, three weeks rotten.

Their mother must have been gorgeous. Niles never met her. She wasn’t around much before she had Alice, and after giving birth she fled the kingdom. Niles is somewhat proud of her for doing so, for working up the courage to leave Todd, to realize how horrible he is. Smiles fading, Niles entertains the idea of running away with Gavin.

Then, of course, he has to turn his attention to King Carl, smiling softly from his wheelchair. Niles shakes his hand, along with the hands of his two sons, Leo and Markus. Leo, though older, had the title of crown prince taken away from him. Some sort of rebellious or drug related problem that Niles doesn’t care about. The title fell to his half brother, and he doesn’t care about this pageantry like the others. He doesn’t even wear a crown.

Prince Markus is, quite literally, a bastard. He was conceived outside of Carl’s marriage, kept a secret from Carl’s son. Some hooker from some other kingdom, Niles thinks. She left him with Carl, and Carl’s wife left _him_ for cheating.

Niles doesn’t really understand straight women. Where are their standards? How can men like David, an idiot, Todd, a slob, and Carl, a paraplegic cheater, manage to bed so many women? It makes no sense to him. Sure, Niles’ taste in men is questionable at times, but these guys? Niles tries to shake those thoughts away as they move the gathering to the dining hall, seat themselves around the large table.

Next to Connor, Niles can pretend to be interested in whatever his brother has to say instead of what bullshit his mother is droning on about. He sits with his head propped on his elbow, glass of rosé in hand, nodding and mumbling a soft “Mhmm,” every so often. Connor’s talking about food, no surprise there. They aren’t _that_ different, but Niles doesn’t like food as much as Connor does. Even now, when Connor should keep his mask all the way down to prevent getting sick, he lifts it to shovel food into his mouth.

He’ll get fat. _Idiot._

Amanda talks for a few hours, and Niles’ untouched food is ice cold by the time she finally addresses him. “What are your thoughts, Niles?”

Niles raises his eyebrows, looking past Connor to her, straightening his shoulders and setting down his glass. “Pardon?”

She gives him a stern look, lips pursed. A warning for him to pay better attention. “Moving up the wedding date. King David and I would like to begin the merge as soon as we can.”

Blinking, Niles shrugs, picking his glass back up to down the rest of his wine. “Then my thoughts shouldn’t matter.”

Amanda raises an eyebrow, but King David speaks for her. It takes Niles a moment to decipher what he says, since his accent makes it sound like he’s chewing on a sock. “Of course your thoughts matter, as do my daughter’s. It is _your_ wedding, after all. The decision ultimately falls to the two of you.”

If it were really up to Niles he would call the whole thing off, decline any sort of association with Jericho and march to his room, grab Gavin by the collar and kiss him senseless. But, it’s not up to him, not really. So, instead, he says, “My interests are for the good of the kingdom. If both of our kingdoms will benefit from a union like this, we should get on with it.”

He can feel Gavin’s eyes, boring holes into the back of his skull. Gavin is more against Niles getting married than Niles is. Something about not being able to sneak around if Niles has a wife hanging on his arm at all times.

His answer makes his mother smile, so Niles allows himself another glass of wine. He’s had four. He signals for one of the servants to fill his glass to the rim, a pretty blonde thing, with large blue eyes. Glancing over at Prince Markus, Niles can see that he’s also watching the man pour the wine. Niles frowns at him, and he turns his gaze back to his plate.

“Good, then it’s settled.” David leans back in his chair, the crown on his bald head tipping forward. “We should decide on a date, then start making arrangements. I know a few priests, too.”

Amanda agrees with him, and they start discussing possible locations before North clears her throat from beside her father. He glances down at her briefly, and she sighs heavily. “Father,” She begins, and Niles finally rolls his eyes, now that the attention has shifted away from him. North shares her father’s dumb accent, rolling her r’s and elongating the vowels. “We’ve discussed Prince Niles’ thoughts, but we haven’t discussed mine.”

David groans, swirling the scotch in his glass. Somewhere down the table, Todd belches, and the sound reverberates off the walls before David speaks. “I don’t want to hear them. Your opinion doesn’t matter. Niles would be running both kingdoms on his own, you’re just there to solidify the union.”

North looks at the table, and Niles looks past Connor to his mother again, who frowns deeply. One of the only things Niles and Amanda can agree on: King David is a sexist asshole, and wants to use his daughter as some sort of pawn. The marriage works out in Amanda’s favor, so she usually tolerates it. Tonight, however, her frown holds firm. “Are you implying that my son’s thoughts are more valuable simply because he’s a man?”

David sputters. “O-of course not. I’m only saying that I’ve discussed this with her before.”

“Well, I haven’t.” Amanda nods to North. “Go on, Dear.”

North’s face flushes, visible even under the harsh light from the chandelier above her. “Well, I expressed my concerns to my father last week. My own… distaste for marriage.” A silence falls over the room. Even Kara and Alice, who had been whispering and giggling amongst themselves sit up straight. “It’s not that I don’t _want_ to combine our kingdoms like this, I just don’t understand why it has to be done so soon. I was hoping that perhaps we could postpone it.”

She flinches with the last two words, and Niles keeps his eyes on her as he drinks from his wine glass. What kind of game is she playing? Beside Niles, Connor stops eating, pulls his mask back down. Amanda sighs. “Postpone?” Her tone is lethal. Vicious. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

“I-”

“Both of our kingdoms are struggling.” Amanda taps her manicured nails on the wood table, making Niles’ hair stand on end. “Do you not want to fix that?”

North shakes her head, cheeks read. “No. I mean, yes! I do want to fix it, just… maybe not now. I mean,” She looks to Niles, and Niles shakes his head right back at her. _Don’t drag me into this,_ He thinks, setting his glass back down. _I said yes._ “Prince Niles and I, we’re both young. Wouldn’t it be better for us to be coronated after we’ve had more experience? We would flourish as rulers if we had more time under your tutelage.”

Amanda looks to Niles, and he exhales slowly, really not wanting a say in this at all. “I’m twenty-five, Mother. I am more than capable of ruling a kingdom.” He looks to North, meeting brown eyes. There are tears there. She’s not telling them something. Her eyes cut to Niles’ core, and guilt pangs in his chest, so he backpedals. “But… my betrothed _is_ younger than I, less experienced. Perhaps there’s some truth to her words.”

North smiles softly in thanks, but her father scoffs. “She’s been learning to rule since the day she was born, North is absolutely capable, she just doesn’t want to.”

“Father, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You’ll marry Niles, and you won’t step a toe out of line. I am tired of hearing you talk about your lover like he’s more important than your fiancé and your kingdom.”

King Carl chokes around a bite of food, and Markus has to smack him on the back to get him to spit it back out. Niles focuses on that disgusting display while Amanda asks, “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Did you say that North has… a lover?” They say nothing, and Amanda huffs a laugh. “Well, that would be absurd. She’s engaged.” She looks at North, smiling with clenched teeth. “I would hope that a princess would never cheat on her betrothed. Especially not on _my son.”_

The silence grows eerie, and Niles turns his attention to the table. The wood grain is very interesting right now.

“Well,” David sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s exactly what I told her.” He looks to North, eyes narrowed. “Go on, tell Her Majesty what you told me.”

Amanda sighs, shakes her head. “No. Tell Prince Niles.”

Everyone’s eyes move to peer at him, and he wants to fucking die. Niles refrains from looking over his shoulder at Gavin, who is undoubtedly having a panic attack. North has a lover, and is about to be berated for it. _But, I have one, too._ Niles squares his shoulders, keeps his gaze on the table.

“North,” David warns, not taking his gaze off of Niles. “Tell him.”

The quiet lingers for a few minutes. All sounds of forks scraping porcelain plates and glasses clicking against the wood stop completely. The only sound, North’s ragged breathing, keeps Niles from letting his mind wander. Keeps him from wondering how his mother would react if he told her about Gavin. Keeps him from wondering if she would fire Gavin. Keeps him from wondering if Gavin would leave him here. Alone.

Eventually, North exhales slowly, the air escaping her lungs at an excruciating pace. “I…” She looks up at her father, then back at Niles, but Niles can’t look back at her. “I’ve been intimate with a citizen of Ferndale for quite some time. A baker.” _Chloe Kamski._ Niles suspected something was going on between them. The name goes unspoken, and Niles doesn’t ask about her. It’s probably hard enough for North to admit this, let alone admit to preferring women. God, Niles doesn’t know how her father would react to that.

Most likely, he’d disown her. Niles knows Amanda would disown him, too.

“I,” North sinks into her chair. She looks small in this large room. “I didn’t mean to betray you, My Prince. I thought… I was foolish to think that I could choose who I wanted to be with. I sincerely hope you can find it in the kindness of your heart to forgive me. I was stupid, and I… I’m sorry.”

Niles wants to scream. Jump across the table and grab her by the shoulders. Shake her and scream ‘Let’s leave! Let’s be ourselves! Let’s love who we want with no repercussions! Fuck these people. Forget my mother and forget your father, let’s get out!’ But, he can’t. Never would. As much fun as it is to dream, Niles knows that they can never do that. Can never be themselves, not openly.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything as her father sighs heavily. “You _were_ stupid. I still can’t believe you would try and get out of your betrothal.”

North looks up at him, her expression growing dark. “Father, I apologized. You don’t have to-”

“Oh, but I do. North, you’re acting like a child.”

“How is that fair?” North’s face grows red. Beety. “You treat me like a child. How else am I supposed to act? You never listen to me, you’re forcing me to get married, you-”

“I am not forcing you to get married,” David huffs, arms still folded. “It is not my fault that you refuse marriage and choose to whore yourself out to any man that bakes bread for you.”

“Ugh!” North stands, pushing her chair back and letting it scrape against the floor. “If you were a better father I wouldn’t be a whore.”

Connor’s fork clatters to the table, and Niles turns to look at him, wide-eyed. David’s chair goes next, as he stands before North, looming over her. “You will apologize to Queen Amanda this instant. How dare you cause a scene while we conduct-”

Niles clears his throat, and the shouting stops. He doesn’t look at his mother, but someone has to diffuse this situation. “Your Majesties,” He smiles wide, charming. “I hold no grudges here. Princess North is forgiven if she makes sure not to let something like this happen again.” He eyes David, bats his eyelashes, keeps his gaze sharp. “I do not like seeming foolish.”

David recoils, backs off of North and sits back down. “Of course not, My Prince. I’m not implying that you are, my daughter is just reckless and inconsiderate of others when she makes decisions. She acts impulsively, always has, even before my wife passed. North?”

He looks to her, and she sinks into her chair as well. “It won’t happen again, Prince Niles. I’m sorry for… being impure.”

After a nod of approval from Amanda, Niles excuses himself. Fuck if he’s dealing with this nonsense any longer. Four glasses of wine is not enough. He craves the sensation of being fully intoxicated.

He finds a new bottle of rosé in the east parlor. Wonderful. Quickly, he gets his hands on it, searching through the cabinets for a bottle opener. From the doorframe, Gavin sighs. “You don’t need to drink that whole thing, Your Majesty.”

“Fuck off, Gavin, I can do whatever I want.”

Niles finds the bottle opener, shoves the screw into the cork. Gavin moves to stand beside him. “Ni, seriously, you-”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Niles whips his head, turning to look up at Gavin with fiery eyes. Gavin frowns, challenging him, and Niles extends the bottle to him. He can’t get the cork out. Sighing again, Gavin unscrews it. The bottle pops, and Niles snatches it back, presses it to his lips. Gavin watches him, holding the cork tight in his fist. Of all the things Niles needed right now, he did _not_ need to start a fight with Gavin.

He doesn’t have much time to think on it. The door slides open again, revealing Markus. He’s Gavin’s cue to go back to his post by the door. He pockets the cork, leans his head against the wall.

Niles sinks into one of the arm chairs, cradling the wine in his arms. “I’m not in the mood, Markus.”

Markus ignores this, sits across from him. He messes with the glasses and bottles on the table for a minute before he settles on scotch, pours himself a double. “So, a whore for a wife, huh?”

It takes a second for Niles to register what he said, and he chokes on his wine. “Pardon?”

“North. She has a lover?” Markus raises an eyebrow. “Did you forget the conversation at dinner?”

“No,” Niles tips his head, wipes wine from his chin. “I just didn’t think that calling her a whore was justified.”

“She has a lover,” Markus laughs.

Niles looks to Gavin for a second. “Yeah, well that’s not the worst thing to have.”

Sighing, Markus sets down his glass. “I suppose. But, does the knowledge that she’s impure make you want her less?”

Impure. Markus is brave to use that word. Niles knows for a fact that Markus has countless lovers, men and women. The only reason he doesn’t get berated for it is because he’s not betrothed to anyone. And, he’s a man. It’s a horrible double-standard, really. That Markus can get away with worse things, but North gets screamed at for being in love. It makes Niles’ stomach hurt. “No. Though, I’m not super excited to be married in the first place. I have no problems with North but… betrothal seems forced to me.”

“I mean, what’s the big deal, anyway?” Markus kicks his feet up onto the table, leaning back in his chair. He raises his hands, admiring his cuticles. The light from the chandelier dances against his fingers, silver rings glistening. “So, you marry a whore. Who cares?”  
Niles frowns. “That’s not what I-”

“Look, that’s just the way things are sometimes.” Exhaling, Markus shrugs, reaching forward to grab his scotch. “Besides, if North really _is_ a whore, that works out in your favor, doesn’t it?”

Thinking of Gavin, Niles shakes his head vigorously. “No. No it does not.”

“What? You don’t want a loose woman? She’d be _your_ whore.”

Still, Gavin. Niles looks to him, arms folded, leaning against the door. Then back at Markus as he drains the glass, letting the liquor slide down his throat with ease. Niles sighs. “Well, I suppose I-”

“Exactly!” Markus laughs, throwing his head back with grace. “At the very least it will make your wedding night fun.”

_Torture, more like._

“If anything,” Markus continues, clicking his empty glass against the armrest. “I’m jealous of you, friend. None of the people willing to fuck me are that slutty. Makes it boring.”

Niles folds his arms, keeping the wine close to his chest. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve only ever had boring sex. No one ever wants to try anything other than missionary.” He scoffs, rolls his eyes. “Virgins, am I right?”

This makes Niles angry. He wouldn’t usually say anything, but… He looks over at Gavin again, and snaps his fingers to gain his attention. “Leave us,” Gavin eyes him warily, but complies, shuts the door behind him. Niles watches Markus, observing quietly as he stares at the ceiling. Does he not remember? The question dances across Niles’ vision, begging to be asked aloud.

When Niles first started sleeping with Gavin, he was scared. Scared of his own feelings. In a moment of stupidity, Niles sought out Markus, fucked him in Ferndale’s throne room. Gavin doesn’t know the details, only that it happened.

But, now, watching Markus, the way he speaks about his previous lays, makes Niles think that he doesn’t know the details either. Or, at the very least, doesn’t remember.

“Markus, I was not a virgin.”

Markus tilts his head forward, eyes meeting Niles’. Despite his wretched personality, Niles has always had a soft spot for Markus’ eyes. They’re beautiful, heterochromatic. One green, one blue. “What?’

Niles laughs, shakes his head. “Markus, I… you said that everyone you’ve had sex with was boring but… I’m- I’m not boring.”

Markus still blinks at him, lips pursed. “Are you drunk or something, because I don’t-”

“Do you really not remember?” Niles looks at Markus wishfully, though he isn’t sure why. It shouldn’t matter, it’s not important, it was years ago. But, Niles’ ego is too cosmic. He requires constant validation.

Markus, slowly, tips his head to the side, as if remembering. “Oh,” He shrugs his shoulders, pours more scotch. “I thought that was the little one.”

Niles freezes.

He’s joking. He must be. This is a joke. A nightmare that Niles will wake from, hopefully finding himself snuggled against Gavin’s chest.

The laughter doesn’t come. It isn’t a joke.

Niles takes a breath, sets his hand on his chest to calm himself. “All this time, you’ve thought… You’ve thought you fucked _Silas_ and not me?”

Shrugging again, Markus drinks from his glass. “I don’t know why you’re so angry, you all the look the same.”

“Holy shit. Ew,” Niles shivers.

“Woah,” Markus raises his hands in defense. “Don’t be angry, okay? The only thing I remembered was that it wasn’t the sick one. Because,” He laughs. “Fuck if I’m getting sick.” Frowning, Niles looks to the floor. Why doesn’t he remember? What’s so boring about Niles that someone could forget him? The door creaks, and Niles whips his head up, ready to yell at Gavin for intruding, only to find North, looking timid. Niles looks between her and Markus before he gets the hint. “Right, okay.” Markus stands, setting his glass down “I’ll leave you to it.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Niles scoffs, folding one leg over the other.

North sinks into Markus’ chair, her fingers lacing together in her lap. “Hello,” Niles, drinking from the wine bottle again, ignores her. She sighs. “Look, I just wanted to apologize again for-”

“Don’t, okay?” Niles shakes his head, hisses air through his teeth. “I don’t know what your father’s deal is, but I don’t actually give a shit.”

She relaxes visibly, her shoulders drooping as she exhales. “Oh.” Seconds pass. She scrunches her nose in confusion. “May I ask why not?”

Niles sighs. “I just… Who would I be if I were to tell you who you can and can’t be with?”

“My betrothed.”

“Well, yeah, but,” Niles rolls his eyes. “I mean, I’m not an asshole, North. I can tell how much you care for… them.” He’s careful with pronouns. Niles doesn’t want to out North, not even between the two of them, if her father doesn’t know she likes women.

The lack of specifics makes North relax more, and she nods. “Right. But, still. I’m sorry. And, I’m going to end things.”

“You don’t have to.” Her nose stays wrinkled, so Niles elaborates, careful with his words. “We’ll figure something out. Some way for it to be acceptable once we’re married. Maybe make them a paramour.”

North watches him, eyes widening. “Wait, you… You would let me continue seeing he-er… _them?_ Even when you’re my husband?”

The word ‘husband’ makes Niles’ skin crawl, but he shrugs it off. She’s not grasping this, so, after another long drink of wine, he tries honesty. “Yeah. I know you don’t love me, and probably never will. It’s a harsh truth, but I’ll never love you either, not the way a spouse should. Not if we’re forced to be together like this.” North nods. She must love the girl.

What a sad life to live. It’s a good thing Niles doesn’t love…

He chooses not to finish that thought.

“Once we’re married you can keep them around, I won’t mind. I, uh,” Niles laughs, shakes his head awkwardly. “I actually have one, too.”

“Have what?”

“A lover.”

North continues to watch him, her hand gripping the collar of her dress. Her knuckles turn white, and Niles can tell she’s searching for what to say. He doesn’t give her the chance to speak. Stands. “I’m sorry my mother was so harsh on you. I hope you’ll forgive me for being intimate with someone else, since you’re doing the same?”

He phrases it like a question, gives her the option to doubt him.

She doesn’t. She nods, quietly keeping her hands folded.

Niles sets the bottle down, hearing the glass clink against the wood. The sound echoes, the bottle is empty. He makes his way towards the door, ready to bump into Gavin and drag him back to Niles’ room. North clears her throat. “Um, Niles?”

“Hmm?” He turns, eyebrows raised.

“She’s very lucky.”

“Who is?”

“Your lover.” North smiles softly. “You’re a good person. Thank you for telling me.”

Niles doesn’t respond. He leaves quietly, tapping Gavin’s shoulder and stomping off to his room. He wobbles a few times, and he has to lean on Gavin’s arm after a while. He really shouldn’t drink so much. Liquor only ever makes Niles unbearably horny, or makes him think too much, ruminate on things. They get to his room, and Gavin shuts the door while Niles collapses onto his bed.

God, Niles wishes he was just horny, like normal.

Instead, he’s thinking about Markus. _Why doesn’t he remember me? Am I boring? Am I bad in bed?_ Then, he thinks about North. _Who does she think she is? I’m nice to her and she assumes my sexuality?_ Mostly, he thinks about himself. _What about my appearance tells people that I like women? I am very obviously a twink._

“Ni, come back to me.”

Niles sits up on his elbows, watches as Gavin removes his boots for him. “What?”

“You’ve gone far away.”

Shrugging, Niles sits up more, helps Gavin undress him. Gavin whistles when he runs his hands over Niles’ panties, and Niles sighs heavily. He forgot he was wearing them. “What’s wrong?” Niles asks when Gavin stops, pushing his elbows together to make his bra seem more filled.

Gavin chuckles, runs his hand through Niles’ hair, messing it up thoroughly. “You’re drunk.”

“I am not.”

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

Niles watches Gavin undress, too. Dropping his weapons and pulling off his boots. He tugs off his undershirt, and Niles runs his hands over the cat there. A siamese. Gavin presses a kiss to his temple, helps him out of his bralette. Their legs tangle together once they’re under the blankets, and Gavin raises his arms to clap the lights off.

Niles tries to sleep, but ends up listening to Gavin’s rhythmic breathing, thinking about what he thought about North before. She loves Chloe, and she must be aware of it.

How would Niles know if he loved Gavin?

  
  
  
  
  


Connor isn’t really sure _how_ Hank gardens at night, but he does. Connor watches him through the window, his face pressed against the glass. Oh, how Connor wishes to be out there. Just to be near Hank would be wonderful. And yet, he turns away from the window, sighing deeply. All day, with all of the excitement and the royals hovering around Amanda and Niles, Connor has felt incredibly anxious.

He isn’t really sure why, but he thinks that Hank would make that feeling go away.

After adjusting the stupid mask covering his nose, Connor stomps off towards his bedroom, fully prepared to remove the stupid thing and climb into bed. Connor loves his family, he really does, but sometimes being around his mother is taxing on Connor’s nerves. What he really needs is a bath, but that can wait until the morning. All Connor needs is his pillow and a few blankets.

If he’s lucky, he’ll dream about Hank. Again.

Connor has had feelings for a few people before. Specifically for Niles’ betrothed. There’s just something about the way Princess North’s eyes sparkle that makes Connor’s knees feel weak. Though, he would never tell anyone this, especially not Niles, and he’s moved on for the most part. Focuses all of his feelings towards Hank. But, even so, Connor’s heart still ached hearing her own father call her a whore.

Finally at his bedroom door, Connor makes a mental note to feed Dewey before closing the curtains around his four poster and sleeping until the sun wakes him. He opens the door, his hand resting on the handle. Pausing, Connor purses his lips. There’s some sort of sound echoing in the room, though he isn’t sure what. It’s highly unlikely that Dewey would invite friends over and throw a party without Connor. He’s a fish. But, still, Connor feels a little hurt that he wasn’t invited.

He pushes the door all the way open, and is… confused by what he sees.

There’s people on his bed, two of them, and clothes scattered over the floor. Connor looks over at Dewey’s tank, and finds no signs of any sort of party. Slightly relieved, he turns back to the people, wondering what they’re doing in his room and why they haven’t noticed him yet. One of them, a man, on his hands and knees, the other man leaned over from behind him, pressed against his back with one hand wrapped around the other’s throat.

Connor’s mouth hangs open. What is this?

He watches for a few seconds. Or minutes. Connor doesn’t know.

The sounds begin to make sense. Moans and gasps, skin against skin. It’s weird. Connor doesn’t like this anymore. It makes his legs feel weird. He clears his throat, trying to gain their attention and ask them to leave. No matter what _they’re_ doing, Connor’s tired. And this _is_ his room, isn’t it?

The sounds stop. The men look to Connor.

He immediately recognizes one. Simon. Explains the uniform discarded on the carpet. The other man breathes harder, doubles over on top of him. Something glints on his head.

A crown.

Connor’s face grows hot.

Prince Markus.

“Um,” He looks towards the ceiling. “I, um,” His hands shake as Simon scrambles out of the bed, quickly gathering clothes while trying to keep his lower body covered. He tosses things at Markus, who lays face down on Connor’s bed, his breathing still heavy. Connor folds his hands together in front of him to keep them from shaking, but it just makes his whole body feel shaky.

What is this feeling? Why does he feel like this? Embarrassment? Guilt? He isn’t sure. Simon has to force Markus out of bed after he’s clothed, and Markus groans. Connor wonders why he’s still panting, when Simon seems mostly calm, save for his red face. Markus stands, his shoulders rising and falling with each sharp inhale of breath. Simon shoves a bundle of clothing into his arms, and Connor watches, then shuts his eyes tight.

Connor has never seen anyone else without clothes on before.

He hears Markus fumble around with the clothing, and Simon mumbles a quick “We’re decent,” so Connor can open his eyes again. Markus digs around in the pockets of his jacket for a small vial of some sort. Presses it to his lips and inhales sharply, filling his lungs with air. His breathing slows.

“Alright,” Markus pockets the device, claps his hands together. “I’ll, uh,” He glances down at Simon. “See you around, I guess.” Then, to Connor, “Breakfast in the morning, Your Majesty?”

Connor clenches his jaw. “Um, yes, I believe so.”

“Cool beans,” Markus grins, scratches his neck, and pushes past Connor, his footsteps quickening as he disappears down the hall, leaving Connor alone with Simon.

Simon exhales slowly. “My Prince, I am _so_ sorry. I have stepped over a line that I should not have, and I would completely understand if you were to terminate me. You do not deserve to be-”

“Why would I fire you?”

Taken aback, Simon shakes his head. “Because… Your Majesty, I was,” He glances at the bed. “In your bedroom.”

“Right, but you’re supposed to be in here. You usually clean before I go to sleep.” Connor shrugs. “I’m sorry I interrupted your… cleaning? I’m not actually sure what you were doing. But, if you don’t mind me being honest, you might want to rethink your plan here. This room is a mess.”

Simon blinks, running his tongue over his teeth. “Your Majesty,”

“Connor,” Connor corrects.

“Right, Connor,” Simon says the word slowly, like it’s hard for him, foreign in his mouth. “You thought I was cleaning?”

“Yes,”

Watching him, Simon’s eyebrows knit together. Connor worries that he’s overstepped. Connor isn’t supposed to clean anything so maybe he wasn’t supposed to-

“Connor, we were having sex.”

Well, now it’s Connor’s to be confused. He laughs a little, then realizes that Simon is serious. “Men can do that?”

Simon makes a strangled sort of gurgling sound. “Yes, of course.”

“But, like, with each other?”

“Oh sweet lord,” Simon breathes out loudly, exasperated. He looks around, as if trying to find someone to save him. Someone to distract Connor so he can run far away. “I… You don’t…”

Connor really didn’t mean to confuse or offend him in any way. He tries to alleviate some of Simon’s worry. “Sorry, I just thought that… Men and women can only have sex with each other.” Simon frowns. “Well, that’s what I’ve read in books, anyway.”

“Oh,” Simon runs his hand down his face. “Oh, Sweetheart.” He shakes his head again, turning back to Connor’s bed and sinking on to the mattress. Connor sits beside him, folding his legs. “May I ask you something, Your Majesty?” Connor corrects him on his name again, then agrees. “Okay. You’re… You’re a virgin, right?”

Connor nods. “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“One time Princess North gave me a hug.”

Simon sputters. “Well, did she kiss you?”

“No.”

“So why mention the hug?”

Connor shrugs. “It was the first hug I ever got from a woman besides my mother. I thought maybe… That meant I had sex with her. I could feel her breasts pressed up against me.”

He whispers the word _breasts._ Connor does not like to swear. Also, thinking back on the conversation topic from dinner, he worries about Simon thinking that Connor is a whore.

Simon smacks his forehead. “Hugs aren’t sex, Connor.”

“Oh,” Connor looks to the floor, his lips pursed.

Simon, sighing, scratches at the comforter. He’s uncomfortable. “Has she ever kissed you?”

“No.”

“Do you like women?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Do you like _men?”_

Connor shrugs, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. “I don’t know. I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Really?” Connor nods, and Simon sighs, leaning over to place his hand on top of Connor’s arm reassuringly. “Connor, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Shrugging again, Connor shakes his head. He really isn’t sure of anything anymore, least of all this. “I know that Niles has kissed people before, I’ve seen him kiss North. I don’t know what Silas is up to, but she probably has, too. All I know is that… Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“There’s this man, out in the garden.” Connor smiles, picturing Hank. Sleeves rolled up, hair pulled back. _Ah._ “Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to kiss him. Is that… okay?”

Simon blinks. “Is what okay?”

“Is it okay for me to want to kiss another man?”

Suddenly, Simon’s arms are wrapped around Connor’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Of course it’s okay, Connor. That’s perfectly normal.”

“But, I don’t think Mother would approve.”

“Well,” Simon exhales, pulls away, keeps his hands on Connor’s shoulders. “I can’t speak for Her Majesty, but I know that it’s okay. I like men, too.” He laughs, shakes his head. “A lot, actually, if you couldn’t tell. Again, I’m sorry you walked in on that.”

Connor drums his fingers against his knees, unsure of what to say. “It’s okay. I should have knocked.” The clock on the wall ticks loudly, and Connor watches Dewey’s fish tank, searching for the small fish. He must be hiding. “What does it feel like?” Simon blinks again, Connor elaborates. “When you were… doing that. Did it feel good?”

“Connor, I-”

“I just have no way of knowing. Sometimes I kiss my reflection in the mirror, but that just makes me feel sad.”

Simon, warily, pulls back, narrows his eyes. “Can I ask you something else?” Connor nods. “Have you never… masturbated before?”

Connor swallows. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“Jesus Christ,” Simon’s head falls into his hands, and he learns forward off of the bed, sighing heavily. “That’s… God, I shouldn’t be the one who-”

“No, tell me!” Connor scoots forward, letting his feet dangle. “I want to know. Mother doesn’t talk about this stuff and I’m afraid to ask Niles.”

“Why?”

“Niles scares me.” Simon sits back up, and Connor lowers his voice. “What is _masturbated?”_

Simon laughs for a second, shaking his head. “Okay, this… This gardener.”

“Hank.” Connor grins.

“Right. Hank. Does he make you feel… hot?” Connor shrugs again. “Like, do your thighs feel… tingly?”

Thinking back to the few dreams he’s had, and how he felt after, Connor nods. “Sometimes. Kind of like, I don’t know. Like this pressure in my stomach.”

“Right, okay, that’s… That’s good.” Simon bites his lip, runs his hands through his hair. There’s still sweat on his forehead. “Your, um,” He points to Connor’s pants, and Connor’s face grows red. “Have you ever, like, touched yourself down there?” Connor thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. He doesn’t think so. “Okay,” Simon sighs again. “Would you like to start with that or should I explain sex first?”

Connor thinks about this, too. He doesn’t necessarily _want_ to touch himself. He wants Hank to do that. A scary thought crosses Connor’s mind, and he rips off his mask, tosses it to the floor. He imagines going to kiss Hank and not knowing what to do. Hank laughing at him for being inexperienced or bad at being intimate. “Sex first.” Simon nods, and Connor clarifies, “Between men.”

“Right,” Simon smirks. “Hank?”

“I hope so.”

“Okay,” Simon runs his hand down his face, smacks his cheeks a few times to wake himself up. He nods. “So I guess… I guess let’s start with anal.”


	4. Two Slow Dancers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Orchid Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been awhile! This chapter is NSFW. Also my twitter is now @cannibalspaghet, if you're lookin for me. bye

Niles’ leg bounces nervously, the chains on the pockets of his dress slacks jingling with each shakey rise and fall of his knee. He wrings his hands together in his lap, running his fingers over his bony knuckles, feeling their smoothness. Music drifts airily through the space. Rhythmic. Loud. Made for dancing. For praising.

The Orchid Ball.

A large event that happens once every few years. Something Amanda hosts for the other kingdoms’ rulers and inhabitants, their citizens. The estate is far away, the commotion happening in the main ballroom at CyberLife Castle. Niles watches the people dancing and swirling, enjoying themselves before their raised platforms. He leans back in his throne, picks at his nails. He hates this place, and wishes Amanda would have let him stay at the estate with Connor.

It’s quiet there. Less commotion. The only comfort Niles feels is seeing Gavin when he glances to the left. He’s right behind the throne, arms crossed. Offering stern looks to the passer bys, and soft smiles to Niles, whenever he looks back. If Niles looks any further, past Gavin, he spots his mother’s throne, currently unoccupied. She slipped away to speak with King David. One of these days Niles is going to wish a curse upon his mother. Something creative. Turn her into a toad.

Not that Niles knows how to do any magic, or even if it exists at all, but still. She’s probably speaking about wedding arrangements. Again.

“Niles, you’re being ridiculous. And, your anxious twitching is insistent, and getting on my nerves.”

Frowning, Niles turns to his right. Of all the times he could have chosen to come back, he had to do it when Niles is on the cusp of his betrothal, his transition into becoming king. He sits, elbows leaned on his knees, legs spread wide as he scans the room. As he throws Niles a wicked smirk.

Motherfucking Silas.

The real reason Niles doesn’t want to be here. Niles loves both of his brothers, sure, but Silas always manages to get right under Niles’ skin. He’s a weasel, and he smells strongly like beer. Niles turns his nose upwards, ignores him. He keeps his focus on the music until Silas snaps his fingers in front of Niles’ face, regaining his attention. “Hey, pay attention to me.”

“What?” Niles scoffs, intentionally bouncing his leg faster just to annoy him. “You’ve been gone for months, Silas. Don’t play the attention card on me.”

“I already told you, I was in  _ prison.” _ Silas reaches up to fix his crown, nuzzled in his curls. He looks different than the last time Niles saw him. There’s a metal bar in his eyebrow and a streak of blonde in his hair. His freckles seem lighter. He hasn’t been outside in a while. “Besides, Mother doesn’t pay attention to me anymore, so the job falls to you. What have I missed?”

“You can’t show up twenty minutes before a ball and expect Mother to be happy with you.” Niles shakes his head. “You’re supposed to be-”

“Advising you politically, yadda yadda, whatever. I know.” Silas rolls his eyes. “Look, I had no control over how long I was gone, okay? I was incarcerated.”

“You could have, oh, I don’t know, not gotten arrested.”

“Christ, Niles, get your panties out of a wad.” Niles gulps, reminding himself that that’s just an expression. No one here besides Gavin knows what panties Niles is wearing. “You’re just jealous because I’m off living my best life while your ass is stuck right on that throne.”

     Niles sighs. “I’m not jealous of you. And, you weren’t living your best life, you were in prison.”

     Grinning, Silas waves to someone that Niles recognizes. The captain of Ravendale’s militia, speaking quietly to King Todd. He waves back. “My best life involves getting good dick. I feel bad for you, really. Stuck with Mother all day, working and ruling instead of getting laid. It’s pitiful really.”

Niles’ leg stops bouncing as he turns to look at Gavin again, who’s coughing a laugh into his closed fist.  _ Asshole. _ “Whatever, Silas. Thank you for bothering me.”

Silas grumbles something about Niles being a dick, and Niles rests his head on his hand, looking out into the crowd of dancing people. He spots his mother approaching the platform, but doesn’t move until she tells him to fix his posture. Amanda grins, refusing to look at Silas. “I would like for you and your betrothed to make an appearance, Niles.”

Raising an eyebrow, Niles’ shoulders slump. “I’m not sure what you mean. We’re both already here.”

Amanda scoffs. “Sarcasm is not becoming of a future king, Niles. Please, get over your vendetta and go dance with Princess North.”

“Mother, I don’t want to dance with her.”

“I don’t care.” Amanda grabs his bicep, pulling him out of the throne and dragging him off of the platform. Silas laughs into his drink. “North has apologized for her lasciviousness, and you will continue from here acting like nothing happened.”

“That’s not why-”

Groaning, Amanda leans to whisper harshly into Niles’ ear. “You will do as you’re told. Go.” Niles frowns, but obeys, straightening his crown. He can hear Silas trying to say something to Amanda, only to be ignored completely. 

Niles finds North at the catering table, chatting quietly with a shorter blonde. Chloe Kamski. No wonder the catering is all pastries and breads, North must have fought to get the Kamski’s to do it. He clears his throat, and North’s laughter dies on her lips. He nods to Chloe before addressing North. “Mother spoke with King David for a while. We’re supposed to make an appearance?” He poses it as a question, silently hoping she’ll decline.

She whispers something to Chloe, then holds her hand out for Niles to take. 

Damn.

They move to the center of the dancefloor, and Niles tries to peek through the crowd surrounding them so he can at least see Gavin. When he can’t find him, he assumes Gavin stepped out. Niles wouldn’t blame him if he did, it would be hard for Niles if he saw Gavin dancing with someone else, too. When he and North actually start dancing, it’s proper, formal. They’re not close. Niles’ hand rests above North’s hip, her hand rests lightly on his shoulder. Their other hands held out, away from them, leaving enough space between them that their chests don’t have to touch.

People swarm them, photographers, onlookers. People wanting to see their future King and Queen. Niles’ head hurts from the lights, the music, North’s perfume. He knows this is all for show, making the people like them, securing a position of popularity. It makes sense for them to dance like this, but that doesn’t mean Niles has to enjoy it. Thankfully, North seems just as miserable. She keeps glancing at the catering table, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. 

Niles looks back up at the platform, watching Silas pout. Gavin is still missing. Amanda narrows her eyes when Niles looks to her. Catching her meaning, Niles sighs, mumbling a quick apology under his breath before leaning closer to North, hearing the jealous whispers and praises uttered from the people watching.

He kisses her lips, trying to ignore the amount of eyes on him.

When the song ends North flees back to the table, and when Niles looks for her again, she and Chloe are gone. He hopes he didn’t upset her. 

Amanda begins talking his ear off once he slumps back in his throne. “Brilliant. I wish you had kissed her a bit sooner, but the reports will look good. I’ll have to speak with King David later about more opportunities like this. We need to start making all four of these kingdoms love you, Niles. Once you and North are married, you’ll rule the strongest alliance” She smirks, lowering her voice. “You’ll be the most powerful man on the entire continent. Isn’t this exciting?”

Niles doesn’t look at her, not able to focus on anything other than the strange feeling of emptiness that fills his heart. Gavin hasn’t come back, he’s not standing behind Niles. Without Gavin, what is there to be excited about? “I guess.”

The ballroom clears out, the guests start to leave. Amanda sees most of them off, standing just outside of the hall, accepting all of their praises. The other royals come to the thrones before they leave, to speak with Niles. King David apologizes for North’s sudden departure. She must have left the castle. It’s hard for King Carl to talk, so Markus speaks for him, laughing about nonsense that Niles doesn’t give a shit about. Only King Todd doesn’t find them, Kara and Alice instead talking to Niles about how gorgeous North’s dress was. 

Once the room is empty, Amanda excuses herself to go deal with some personal matters, and suggests that Niles retire for the evening as well. They have meetings to attend in the morning. After a few minutes, Silas sighs deeply, standing and cracking his back. “I’m gonna go see if the Ravendale Captain is still here.”

“Why?”

Silas throws a smirk over his shoulder. “Why do you think?” Niles rolls his eyes. “Don’t stay up too late, brother.”

Niles looks out at the empty ballroom, his expression blank. The staff won’t come to clean up the hall until morning, leaving the tables covered with food and empty glasses. The music still plays softly, sad melodies sweeping over the hall. Niles leans his head back against the throne, shuts his eyes.

Odd. How one kiss can make Niles feel so bad, he isn’t sure.

Is it because he upset North? He should have spoken to her first, before they started dancing. They’ve kissed before, it’s not a big deal. They had an unspoken agreement. Kissing is part of this. Eventually, sex will be, too, but Niles doesn’t think either of them wants to think about that too often. He keeps his eyes shut, listening to the music. It’s soothing. 

Footsteps draw his attention, but he doesn’t need to open his eyes. He recognizes the pattern, the weight of each step. “Where did you disappear to?”

Gavin huffs a breath, shifts his weight. Niles can hear the medals covering his uniform as they clink together. “You know it’s hard for me to see you with  _ her.” _

He’s jealous.

Sometimes Niles wishes that he never started anything with Gavin, just to avoid this feeling. One of the scariest things to think about is the possibility of Gavin leaving him, once he marries North. If seeing them together will be too much for Gavin, and he’ll quit. Niles really doesn’t want to know what that feels like. To know how it feels to be heartbroken.

“I’m sorry.” Niles’ voice comes out as a whisper, barely audible over the soft music. Gavin doesn’t acknowledge his apology, and Niles supposes that’s fair. Instead, he holds his hand out, letting Niles slip his own hand against his fingers. Gavin pulls Niles out of the throne, onto the dance floor. “What are you-”

“You owe me a dance, Ni.”

Niles blinks up at Gavin, at the small halo of light that glistens behind his head, illuminating him under the harsh lights of the ballroom. “What?”

Gavin rolls his eyes before pulling Niles against him. Dancing with Gavin is much different. Niles wraps his arms around Gavin’s neck, pressing his entire body against Gavin’s chest. Gavin does the same with his own arms and Niles’ waist, pulling him closer and pressing kisses against his hair. Niles feels like he needs to cry, but he isn’t entirely sure why. Maybe the thought of losing Gavin really scares him.

“Ni,” It’s like Gavin can read his mind, can tell whenever Niles is upset. “I know it’s not you. It’s her majesty making you be with North.”

Niles sighs, nuzzles his head in the crook of Gavin’s neck. “I know. Sometimes I just feel like you hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” Gavin kisses Niles’ head again, exhaling slowly. Niles tries to focus on the soft music, the gentle sway of their dance. “No matter what happens, Ni, I,” 

He stops himself. Niles understands what he means, and is extremely grateful that he doesn’t say it out loud. “I just, I don’t know. It’s hard sometimes, that’s all.”

“I know,” Gavin runs his hands against the small of Niles’ back. “And I know that we can’t do anything about our current situation.” He sighs, and Niles can feel it on his neck. “It’s hard, knowing that you have to marry her, but that’s just the way things are. We’ll figure it out.”

“Gavin,”

“We’ll figure out how to stay together. North has a lover, right? Maybe she’ll understand.”

“She does, but-”

“Shh,” Gavin moves his hand to Niles’ face, pulling his chin up to kiss him softly. “Don’t worry so much. Everything will be okay.” 

Niles leans into the kiss, feeling the softness of Gavin’s lips, their warmth. Wondering what he did to deserve someone as wonderful as Gavin. “I just wish things were different. That I wasn’t  _ me. _ That there weren’t such standards, that you weren’t my guard, that-”

“I know, Ni. I do, too.” Gavin smiles, trying to make Niles feel better. “But wishing doesn’t do anyone any good. We just have to deal with this.”

Niles grows tired of talking, of listening. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Gavin’s, continuing to sway with him. The music fades. Stops. The lights, automatic, turn off for the night. No one will be back in the room until they come to clean it in the morning. 

Even in the dark, Gavin and Niles keep swaying, holding each other. Enjoying each other now, despite Niles’ future and their impending separation.

  
  
  
  
  


Connor is not invited to the Orchid Ball.

Of course he wouldn’t be. He honestly still doesn’t know why he feels upset. Connor is never allowed out of the estate, why did he even bother getting his hopes up like that? He tries to shake away the feeling of disappointment, drumming his fingers against the mattress.

He’s  _ bored. _

No one will be back at the estate besides the staff until a few days from now. Connor’s only been alone for three hours and has already exhausted every single thing he had planned for the evening. He wrote a wordy passage in his journal, messed around with his watercolor set, fed Dewey. Connor even reread part of his favorite book, but even that lost its appeal.

Now, he lays on his back in his bed, palms upwards, staring at the canopied roof of his four poster. Sometimes Connor really  _ really  _ hates this place. There’s nothing to do! Amanda doesn’t even allow television in fear of  _ ruining Connor’s brain _ or whatever other nonsense she crones about. Connor doesn’t like to be angry at his mother. After all, she is only doing what’s best for him. But, all the same, Connor wishes that he was allowed to do things. The way Niles is allowed to follow her everywhere, the way Silas is allowed to disappear for weeks and months without telling anyone where she is! It’s not fair.

If only Amanda would let Connor outside, just once. 

Thinking of the outside makes him think about Hank.

Connor turns, looking towards his balcony. It’s dark outside, the stars visible. There’s no reason for Hank to be working this late. Part of Connor wishes that they had all left for the ball earlier than they did, that would have given him time to watch Hank work. He imagines Hank out in the garden, sweat soaking through his white shirt. Oh, how Connor loves seeing Hank’s shirts when they’re sweaty. The way they cling to his skin, making the outline of his stomach visible. He looks soft, everywhere but his arms. His arms are strong, muscled. Like he could pick Connor up and throw him around.

The thought makes Connor squeeze his thighs together.

Simon explained sex to him, so Connor sort of understands the gist of it. How to do it safely, how to make it feel good. Simon tried to get Connor to understand masturbation as well, but Connor just… doesn’t even want to get it. He’d rather have Hank’s hands all over him, what good would his own do?

But, now, as he lays here, bored eyes glaring a hole into the canopy of his bed frame, he wonders if it might help. Connor knows that Hank certainly isn’t anywhere near him, and he hasn’t talked to Hank nearly enough to make Hank want to be in bed with him. So, Connor figures he better learn while he has the chance, no one in the estate to intrude or bother him. Even the maids are gone for the night.

Slowly, Connor lets his hands trail over his stomach, feeling his skin under his silk pajamas, trying to figure out what feels good. He moves his hands to his thighs, rubbing against them. That’s a bit better, amplifying that tingly feeling in a way that touching his stomach didn’t. His fingers dance along the top of his pajama bottoms, lightly tapping against his stiffening cock. It’s… interesting, to say the least. Definitely not something Connor has felt before. 

Sure, based on how Simon explained it, Connor  _ has _ had erections before, he just never does anything about it. Usually, he would just stand in his room until goes away, talking to Dewey or staring at the floor. It makes peeing hard to do, but that’s about all Connor knew.

Now, he knows that something’s supposed to happen, he’s supposed to do something about it. It’s weird that he didn’t know that before. Connor wonders why Amanda never told him. He also wonders whether or not Niles knows what to do. Surely Amanda never told him, either. Connor really  _ really _ doesn’t want to ask. 

Figuring it might be easier if his clothes are out of the way, Connor wiggles out of his pajama bottoms, pushing them deep underneath his blankets. His top follows, getting kicked out of the way. The silk of Connor’s sheets feels cold against his skin, despite how long he’s been laying here. He doesn’t have to worry about underwear, he rarely wears them anyway.

Warm fingers move back to Connor’s hips, pinching the skin there. It also helps, sparking Connor’s heart rate until he reaches down, taking his cock with gentle caresses. Connor isn’t really sure what to do here, but the touches are light. Just testing how it feels. He runs his thumb along the slit at the top, expecting a different sensation, but finding none. It perks up a bit when Connor squeezes just beneath it, fingernails scraping the inside of his thigh. 

Connor doesn’t actually feel anything he would call  _ good _ until he places his palm on the underside of his cock, pressing it against his stomach. The pressure makes his eyelids flutter shut, and he surprises himself, gasping a little. He tries something else, wrapping his fingers around the base and slowly dragging his hand upwards. It’s not great, not like he thought it would be. Something is missing, Connor feels like he’s forgetting something, though he isn’t sure what.

Building off of the reaction he got from pushing against it, Connor rolls to his stomach, pulling a pillow down below his hips so he can press himself against it. That helps, too, making the tingling feeling stay in his cock instead of spreading down to his legs, making them feel weak like how they usually feel around Hank.  _ Hank. _ Connor tries to imagine what it would feel like to press against Hank this way. Naked, vulnerable, wanting. Slowly, Connor rolls his hips, the friction from the pillow rubbing against his cock sending a shiver up his spine.

He works with that, grinding down onto the pillow, hands continuing to roam his legs, pinch his ass, find sensitive spots that generate good reactions. He wishes Hank were here, his body would feel amazing against Connor’s cock this way. Connor’s starting to understand why people do this. It’s relieving, to forget everything that’s worrying you and focus on feeling good. To focus on making yourself feel pleasure. It’s nice.

Pressure builds in Connor’s thighs as he notices the soft whimpers falling from his lips. Quiet, breathy moans as he figures out what feels good, what works. He spills onto the pillow, biting his lip to keep himself from moaning Hank’s name. That would be embarrassing. He reaches down to see what happened, his hand immediately feeling sticky and gross. He sighs, feeling bad for Simon, who’s going to have to clean this up.

Connor’s legs feel kind of weaker, but his body hasn’t stopped being aroused, his cock still awake despite his quick orgasm. He isn’t really sure what else he can do. Suddenly, Connor remembers what he forgot. The small bottle Simon gave him for this. Connor stumbles out of bed on jelly limbs, holding onto the bed post for support. He glances over at the fish tank. “You better be asleep, Dewey.” He can’t see the fish from here. “No peeking, I mean it.”

The bottle is hidden in a cabinet in the bathroom, and it takes Connor a few minutes to get there. He’s a mess when he looks in the mirror, covered in his own fluids, hair messy, face bright red. Gross. Connor sure looks worse than how he feels.

He wonders how to go about this, then decides to draw a bath, determined to figure out more ways to make himself feel good.

Connor finds Hank the next morning, before everyone wakes. The maids clean around him, and he intentionally avoids making eye contact with any of them, in fear of them seeing the shame in his eyes. He doesn’t want any of them to tell Amanda what he did. 

Hank is working outside of the library today, spritzing roses with water. Connor smiles, a blush creeping up on his features. He taps on the window, feeling bold. After yesterday, Connor decided that he wants to do that with Hank. He has to. Or, at the very least, he wants to look at Hank’s face. Maybe hold hands. Hank smiles, leaning up against the glass so they can talk. “Hey. Connor, right?”

“Mhmm,” Connor grins, eyebrows raised. “How are you?” 

He has to shout to be heard through the thick glass, and Hank chuckles a little. “I’m alright, thanks. You’re wearing a mask?”

It sounds like a question. Connor doesn’t really want to explain why he’s not allowed outside, so he simply says, “I’m sick.”

“Ah,” Hank wipes sweat from his forehead, and Connor’s blush grows brighter, remembering last night, how he fantasized about Hank doing that while being inside of him. 

Somehow it’s invigorating. It makes Connor feel bold. 

“I like you.”

“What?” Hank presses his ear to the glass.

“I like you!” Connor glances around at the maids, making sure they can’t hear him. “I think you’re attractive. I saw you working from my balcony so I came down here to tell you that I like watching you work.”

Hank stares at Connor for a second, scratching his eyebrow. “You like me?”

“Yes.”

Connor is confused when Hank laughs, the sound echoing off of the glass and startling him. “That’s… alright.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor shakes his head. “I’m joking, I-”

“No, Connor,” Hank sighs. “It’s alright. That’s… that’s good.” He pauses, biting his lip. “We don’t really know each other.” 

“I know,” Connor frowns. “But I’d like to get to know you. I’m not allowed outside, but we can talk like this.” He considers this, then adds, “Or from my balcony.”

Hank’s really nice about Connor’s suggestion. Connor has to hurry if he’s going to make it to breakfast in time, but he and Hank decide to meet in one of the parlors that Amanda doesn’t frequent. Hank can’t come inside, but they can open the windows in there.

Connor’s heart races. He’s going to speak to Hank face to face.

That sounds wonderful.


End file.
